


Of Stolen Glances and Faked Smiles

by MidnightCrow



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Acting, Actor Victor Nikiforov, Alternate Universe - Actors, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Hanahaki Disease, Homelessness, M/M, Phichit's in a boy band, Slow Build, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-09 13:06:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 40,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12277083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightCrow/pseuds/MidnightCrow
Summary: After losing his job and ending up on the streets Yuuri Katsuki had hit rock bottom. Things would only get weirder from there after award-winning actor Victor Nikiforov offers him a position as his own assistant and drags him into the world of showbiz.Yuuri had just wanted Victor's wallet, but would he steal the man's heart instead?





	1. No matter what I do it's probably useless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. This is a thing I guess. I was tossing ideas around in my head and basically picked three out of all of them and decided to combine them, two of them were thief Yuuri and actor Victor but the third one will be a secret until it comes into play.
> 
> If you read Spring and Winter the next chapter is almost done, but this got in the way and I figured it was best to just write it so I could get it out of my head. Also I use Victor in this because it's more conventional and seems more like what an actor would use, but I use Yuuri mostly to tell him and Yuri apart so it doesn't confuse everyone.
> 
> Updated 4/11/18: if you've never read this before then pretend nothing changed, you can't prove anything. If you have read this before then you'll notice a pretty big change, like how I realized that while writing in first person was a good exercise for me to try it doesn't work too well in fanfiction. It's very fun to change over 30,000 words from first to third person and it took a while. If I missed something, which is likely, please tell me.
> 
> As with everything I write this has been read through several times in addition to spelling and grammar checks but no beta.

The alley stank of garbage and cigarette smoke, if anything it actually smelled better than it normally did, yesterday's rain had washed away some of the stenches. It would be even worse tomorrow when the trash began to rot and grow mold from being wet, so Yuuri made a mental note to avoid it tomorrow if he even came this way at all. All alleyways and back routes through Sterling were the same, covered in rotting food and broken trash bags that the hungry would rifle through if they were desperate enough. He'd nearly stooped that low once or twice but the vile odor caused his stomach to lurch and any interest in eating to fade.

Yuuri had swiped food from restaurant trash cans after watching for an employee to toss out the unsold hamburgers from that day, and despite being cold and slimy, they tasted heavenly. Living on the streets for several months really changes one’s perspective on food and something he thought he would never touch becomes a five-star meal after days of eating nothing. He was reaching that point now, the last thing he'd consumed was a granola bar bought with several wet dollars, and that had been the day before yesterday. His stomach hadn't felt full in weeks and the gnawing pain of hunger often prevented him from getting a full night's sleep, if attempting to sleep outdoors didn't do the trick. Last night had been especially hard because both the bench and his clothes were soaking wet from the evening’s rain, and each gust of wind only made him colder. He'd woken up with a sore throat after barely two hours of rest and felt even more tired than before he'd slept.

Shivering slightly the man returned his gaze to the alley entrance and continued scanning the crowd of people, there were those who looked like obvious tourists and others who navigated the busy street with precision gained from years of living there. Only a few people stood out to him as possible targets but they either were walking with someone or looked too scary to approach, not a good night for stealing Yuuri thought with a sigh. He'd practiced picking pockets several times within the past few months and managed to snag some loose cash and even a whole wallet once, although there hadn't been much in it and the credit card had been canceled before he could use it much.

A tall man passed by his hiding spot looking as though he'd tried and failed to be inconspicuous, he wore a dark gray peacoat along with a red beanie that hid his hair and a matching scarf despite the fact it was fairly warm for early November. What really made the person stand out were the expensive-looking sunglasses perched on his pale, thin nose; sunglasses, at nine o'clock at night. Yes, there were bright signs and streetlights, but unless this man was extremely sensitive to light the glasses were there for a different reason, or so he guessed.

Yuuri honestly just wanted to follow him because of how outrageous he looked, but the leather wallet sticking out of his jeans pocket didn't hurt either, his stomach rumbled just thinking about food. He slipped into the crowd, coughing into a filthy sleeve as he slowly worked his way closer to the strange man, watching him out of the corner of his eye in an attempt to stay out of sight. Neon signs flashed advertisements and the smell of fried food made Yuuri’s mouth water as he stalked his mark for several crowded blocks through the city streets. Hadn't he just thought it was warm out? Maybe the setting of the sun had cooled everything down because his teeth started chattering, and he really hoped he wasn't getting sick.

After a while, the man pulled out his phone before darting into one of the many side streets that ran through the city like a labyrinth of stone and asphalt. Yuuri began to walk faster, not wanting to lose him and any chance of picking his pocket. The thought of another night without food was enough to make his feet pick up the pace almost of their own accord and he'd just entered the alley when a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders and dragged him farther inside. His first thought was to cry out, but a gloved palm slapped down over his mouth and a deep, sultry voice whispered into his ear.

"Who are you? What do you want from me? How did you recognize me?" The man's tone was harsh and inquisitive as he spun his captive around to face him; the oversized sunglasses were gone and Yuuri could see his face in full, horrifying detail. He recognized those piercing blue eyes, the sharp cheekbones and the angles of his pale, thin face. Hadn't he memorized it all these features years ago? His tall, lanky frame made sense now, it had been sculpted for years so it would look perfect onscreen, and that absurd beanie had been worn to keep his distinctive silver hair out hidden. Yuuri had seen this man for years, in commercials and TV shows, movies and interviews; at least once a month it appeared on the cover of some magazine or in a newspaper. He was anywhere and everywhere even if one were a poor nobody who couldn't afford a TV, let alone cable.

Ice seemed to flood his veins he stared at Victor Nikiforov, the world-famous and award-winning actor whom he'd idolized as a child, and the realization of just what was happening finally sank in. Victor had known Yuuri was going to rob him, he'd probably watched Yuuri the whole time before coming down here to confront them. He'd probably called the cops by now, and hell they were most likely on their way. Maybe prison wasn't as bad as people said it was.

Those blue eyes that made teenage girls swoon narrowed as he glared at Yuuri, shaking him by the shoulders. "I asked you a question, who are you? What do you want? An autograph? An interview? Who do you work for?"

Yuuri only realized his mouth was uncovered once he began coughing again. Why did his throat have to hurt so much? Why was he sweating? "Please, I swear I didn't... I was just hungry... I haven't eaten in days and I saw your wallet... Please don't send me to jail." He knew it probably sounded pathetic but he was terrified, this man who'd been on the top ten "Most Handsome Actors" list for the past six years was staring daggers at him and he had no way to defend himself.

His silver brows knitted together as though he were confused, but Yuuri found himself feeling similarly. Hadn’t it been obvious he’d wanted to rob Victor? "You aren't paparazzi?" He looked Yuuri up and down as though only just now noticing the filthy jeans and the sweatshirt now so discolored it was impossible to tell what color it had once been. Not to mention there was no camera with on his person, there wasn’t even a cell phone. "Who are you?" Victor asked again, clearly just as perplexed as Yuuri was.

"Yuuri, just Yuuri." No need to bring up any connections the last name Katsuki might bring.

The actor pulled his phone back out of his pocket and spoke very fast in what was probably Russian to whoever was on the other end; sneaking glances at Yuuri every few seconds as if afraid he might run away, which he probably should have. After a minute or so of a rushed conversation, the black-haired man did attempt to edge slowly down the alley back out towards the street only to have his wrist grabbed before he got even a foot away.

"I don't think so," Victor had clearly finished talking and returned his attention to Yuuri. "Look, ‘just Yuuri,' I'm not letting you get away that easily. There's no guarantee that you're not wired with a microphone or hidden camera or something that will tell the press where I am. The last thing I want to deal with right now is some nosy, no moral idiot who thinks that owning a camera means instant fame." He was smiling still but his eyes were cold and unforgiving, years ago he'd played a detective who'd nearly gone to jail in pursuit of a criminal and the expression of forced politeness was eerily similar.

"I swear my only interest was the wallet, I didn't even know you were..." His head began to spin, the cool night air refreshing against his sweaty face as the realization hit Yuuri, his immune system was already in the toilet from living on the streets for months and spending the night in wet clothes must have been the last straw. He was sick, with what there was no way to tell. He'd probably been exposed to hundreds of diseases in the past week alone, and it seemed like he was about to pass out or get arrested in front of Victor effing Nikiforov. Yuuri’s breaths became shallow as his legs began to tremble and he fell against the alley wall, scraping his palms and coughing into one filthy sleeve.

_It’s all over, he thought briefly, I’ve done my best but there was only ever so much a child who'd been unwanted from the start could achieve._

Through the haze clouding his mind, Yuuri registered someone grabbing him, lifting him off the ground and practically carrying his limp body into a car, and then the door slammed and shocked him back to his senses.

Breathe, just breathe, I can still prove I haven't done anything wrong; intent to rob someone isn't actually robbing someone, right?

"What's wrong?" Victor was in front of him again, a look of concern replacing the suspicion and irritation that had been there up until now.

Yuuri took a deep breath or as deep a breath as he could take since his lungs didn't seem to want to work without coughing, his vision getting blurry as he slumped sideways on the car's wide leather seats.

"You're burning up!" How did he know that? There hadn't been any sensation of being touched. "Yuuri, what-"

His eyes slid shut.

-

"Yuuri, why are you crying?" Mama Katsuki stroked his head as he sobbed tears and snot dripping down his cheeks.

"I broke it. It was important to you and I broke it." The vase lay in pieces on the ground, shards of glass, crushed flowers, and water already soaking into the carpet.

"Did the glass cut you?" She pried small hands from where they clutched his pants and forced them open so she could inspect them. "Are you hurt?"  
Yuuri shook his head, shoulders trembling.

"Then it's ok, it's just a vase Yuuri, I can always get another vase but you are irreplaceable," she lifted his chin so he was forced to look her in the eyes. "You are important Yuuri, and I care far more about you than I ever could an object, never forget that."

-_

Yuuri woke warmer and more comfortable than he had been in a long time, but at the same time everything hurt; his head was pounding and every muscle ached as though he'd done a serious workout. What had happened? He opened his eyes slowly and immediately regretted it, the lights were too bright and the ceiling and walls too white and reflective. He shut them again.

"You're awake." Cracking one eye back open Yuuri glanced in the direction of who'd spoken; it hadn't been a dream at all, he'd wanted to rob Victor Nikiforov and instead he'd fainted in his car. "You're lucky it's just a cold, although the doctors say you're dehydrated and severely malnourished, so that made things worse and it will probably take you longer to recover."

"Is this a hospital?" Yuuri’s voice was hoarse and his throat felt raw.

"No, this is my place, you may not be paparazzi but that doesn't mean ‘Victor Nikiforov Rushed into Emergency Room' wouldn't show up in papers somehow." The actor sat in a plush armchair next to the bed, one leg crossed over the other in a gesture that seemed both relaxed and confident at once.

His shirt felt strange against his skin and Yuuri glanced down to see that someone had changed his clothes. He was now in clean pajamas and it looked like that same person had at least attempted to clean the dirt off his skin. "You believe me?"

"There were no wires in your clothing, no microphones or cameras either; there was also no chance of those clothes ever becoming clean again so I had them thrown out. You can thank me later."

With another rough cough a bitter taste filled Yuuri’s mouth. "Why are you helping me? Why not just turn me over to the police?"

"Because I want to listen to your story before I decide what to do with you, I'll admit I'm curious to know how a twenty-year-old kid ended up on the streets and had to resort to theft in order to survive."

Yuuri’s cheeks flushed at the thought of telling this man, a famous actor who most likely never had to work another day in his life if he so desired, just what had happened to him. They were as different as two people could possibly be, and he knew it too. "Can I have some water first?" His tongue felt heavy and dry in his mouth and he knew he wouldn't be able to talk much if he didn't drink something. To his surprise Victor held out a bottle of water, cold enough for condensation to have formed on the outside of it, and Yuuri nearly drank the whole thing, only pausing to cough after swallowing wrong

"Slow down, it's not like I don't have more and I really don't want to have to deal with you throwing up in my apartment." Yuuri obliged, finishing the bottle in slow sips before handing it back to the actor.

"Thank you..." Yuuri didn’t want to look Victor in the eye, his story wasn't all that interesting if he was honest with himself, but if this man really wanted to hear it...

"I'm not exactly sure where to start, but I've been on the streets for a few months now, since the place I used to work for laid off all its employees when it was on the brink of bankruptcy. Because I couldn't pay rent my landlord kicked me out and I couldn't exactly get a new job thanks to the fact nobody wants to hire a twenty-year-old with no degree and no connections."

"Why couldn't you go back home?"

Yuuri gulped, a lump forming in his throat as he thought of what had once been his home, he didn't realize just how much he’d miss it. "I don't have a home anymore, I grew up in a group home and sadly once I turned eighteen and was legally an adult the government found an easy job for me and took me out of the system. Apparently being an orphan is expensive."

"You-" Victor tried to ask something but Yuuri knew if he stopped talking me or changed the subject he might never be able to speak about this again.

"I don't know who my birth parents are, they're alive but that's about all I know besides guessing that they were probably teenagers who didn't want to take care of a child. The home had just opened and since I was the first kid the owners took in they treated me like I was their own son, even let me take their last name since I have no idea what my real one was. Hell I didn't even have a name before arriving at the home." It was true, Toshiya and Hiroko Katsuki had been as loving as any real parents could be, and a part of Yuuri really wished they had been his actual parents so he could stay with them forever.

"I was named Yuuri, meaning courage to win, although I'm not sure why they picked that name because I've never won anything, and courage seems like it has forsaken me. Also while I was the first child taken in by the Katsukis I wasn't alone for long, for eighteen years I helped care for the other children like they were my siblings. I didn't mind cooking dinner or other chores because it was the least I could do to repay the owners for taking me in."

"I studied hard in the local public school and graduated with high grades but college was never an option for me, not unless I somehow managed to get a scholarship to pay for everything, and even so I had no idea of what I'd even study. In the end, I was given a job as a secretary for some dentist's office and managed to survive week to week until I was laid off, which brings me back to why I tried to rob you and you, for some unknown reason, taking me into your apartment." Yuuri sighed, there wasn't anything more to tell Victor and he was sure the actor wouldn't be interested even if there were.

"That sounds like the plot for some made-for-TV movie." _There it was, had he been paying attention at all?_

"I know it's a lame story, you don't have to tell me that."

"Well I know it's the truth because I did some research on you before you woke up, there was no way of knowing what kind of thing you might tell me in order to gain my sympathy but you stuck with the truth not caring what I'd think." Victor smiled at Yuuri, his blue eyes peeking out from under silver bangs in a way that implied he'd practiced the look multiple times before a mirror. This man may have been famous for his acting skills, but there were articles talking about how smart he was in addition to being good-looking. Rather than blindly accepting whatever story was offered he’d gotten the information first and waited to see if Yuuri’s version matched up.

"Wait, you looked me up? How? I didn't give you my full name and-" out of the corner of his eye Yuuri saw a familiar brown object on the side table next to the bed; instead of him stealing Victor Nikiforov's wallet he'd had his own taken. The actor held up a learner's permit, and while Yuuri had never actually tried driving it seemed like the best form of identification one could have.

Flipping the permit over Victor read the back. "Yuuri Katsuki, male, twenty years old, birthdate..." He glanced up at me. "Is this your real birthday?"

"I don't know, I've never seen my birth certificate but it's the best guess I have."  
"‘Assumed' birthdate is November twenty-ninth 1990, five foot eight, should I go on or can you trust that just knowing your name was enough for me to Google?"

Once again Yuuri’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, the suspense was killing him and Victor knew it. "What did you find out about me?"

"Not much more than you've already said, thankfully you have a unique name or I might not have found anything, but the internet doesn't really care unless something noteworthy happens. By the way, why did you name the picture you got in an art show ‘another bad self-portrait?’?”

"Apparently just because I thought it was terrible didn't mean the teacher did, but it was a shitty painting and I didn't care about it."

"Aww, I thought it was cute."

There was a brief period of time where Yuuri just stared at Victor, wondering just what the actor wanted from him because it would have been all too easy to abandon him somewhere after learning that he wasn't actually paparazzi. Apparently, his anxiety showed because the silver-haired man pressed one thin finger to his chin in fake contemplation. Was he going to say just what was going on in that head of his?

"You don't seem like a bad person ‘Just Yuuri, you've been dealt a bad hand and been told to be happy about it, so you tried even though you're homeless and starving. You plaster a smile on your face because it's the best way to convince yourself that everything is alright, and nobody around you pays attention closely enough to consider it's all a façade and that you're close to breaking. You figure that you've been fortunate enough to make it this far thanks to the kindness of others and that asking for any more would be pushing your luck." Victor Nikiforov didn't sound like he was reading from a script; instead, it was as if he was speaking from his own experience.

"You know what ‘Just Yuuri?'" The actor turned to face Yuuri, a sad smile on his perfect face. "You're allowed to be happy, you're allowed to be greedy sometimes, and you're most certainly allowed to put yourself first because if you don't nobody will."

"How do you know that?" Yuuri’s voice was trembling now, what little strength he’d had was drained from simply telling his story.

"Because I've felt similarly and although I've never lived on the streets it doesn't mean that I started off great; in fact, the man you see now is the result of overcoming many hardships, which is why I want to help you."

What. He couldn't be serious. The Victor Nikiforov was not offering to help Yuuri and this was still some bizarre dream caused by sickness and hunger.

"I'll ask you this, Yuuri Katsuki: do you want to change?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, I did google my own name as research: I'm on page 5 because I got in the paper a few years back, and adding my high school brought up the original "Another Failed Self Portrait" I threw in here as a joke. If I didn't like a piece I called it failed in the title and to my surprise one ended up in an art show for the town to see how much I hated it, I thought it was funny.
> 
> Yuuri's an orphan, it was the best route to take, and having his parents give him up because they couldn't care for him avoided the cliche "they died in an accident" backstory while leaving the Katsukis to be his legal guardians and shower him with love until he turned eighteen and I stole the not being allowed to stay thing from Love So Life, because it worked.
> 
> I have a rough idea of what I want to do with this but no concrete plans so it will probably update sporadically like everything else because I'm a fail whale and working plus making costumes plus forced family vacations equals tired Crow who can't find the energy or motivation to write. I'll certainly do my best though so please tell me what you think or throw ideas at me and we'll see what sticks.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading.


	2. I was watching a face about to cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thing is back! I'm going to attempt to either update this or Spring and Winter every Monday because I have Sundays and Mondays off from work and I can try to make up the slack then. No promises because life is crazy.
> 
> I don't know why these chapters are so long... I just write them until I reach a good stopping point like the other fic but these just are bigger.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

The next morning Yuuri awoke to the smell of smoke, the sharpness of it cutting through his dreams and forcing him out of the bed, a fire was not something he wanted to deal with. It wasn't until his bare feet touched the soft carpet that he realized something was very wrong, besides the smoke. He didn't recognize his surroundings, his clothes, or the view out the window. Where the hell was he? Yuuri sat back down on the bed, stunned, before the urge not to burn to death in some strange building overcame him and he stumbled out of the room.

Unfortunately he still had no idea where he was, which room would have smoke in it, so he darted into several only to find a second bedroom, a bathroom, and a living room before finally stumbling upon the kitchen and spotted... Victor effing Nikiforov, standing in front of the stove looking at a pan of what now resembled charcoal, a smoke detector rested on the counter next to him with its batteries removed. Memories of yesterday came flooding back to Yuuri, the attempted robbery, fainting and being taken to wherever this place was, talking about his past, and finally this strange man saying he wanted to help. None of it mattered at the moment because it seemed like the award-winning actor was somewhat incompetent in the area of cooking.

"Oh, it's ‘Just Yuuri.' Did you sleep well? How do you feel?" Victor gave one of those smiles that caused the female actors to swoon and fangirls to lose their heads, but for some unknown reason it was ineffective on Yuuri. Maybe it only worked on girls, or maybe he was too disturbed by the burnt pan to care about flashy grins.

"Dare I ask what that used to be?" Yuuri gestured at the stove, grimacing slightly.

"Oh, I tried making eggs but I turned away for a second and they were all burnt when I went back to them, I'm not entirely sure what happened."

Brown eyes met blue as Yuuri stared at the man, twenty-four years old, winner of just about every acting award there was, international heartthrob, and apparently a huge airhead. Unless he was he acting right now, playing the buffoon to see what reaction it might get. "Are there more?"

"Are there more what?" Victor blinked as Yuuri opened the fridge and stared at its contents.

"Is this really where you live?" His voice was inquisitive as he scanned the room as well, thinking back to how unused everything Yuuri had seen up until now was. "I find it strange that you'd only have a carton of eggs, half a gallon of milk, and two cans of beer even if you did travel a lot; wouldn't someone know to stock this up? Not to mention the bathroom only had travel-size products in it and there are no books or magazines anywhere, stop me when I'm wrong."

The carefully crafted smile fell away and was replaced by a look of mild intrigue. "Impressive, I guess I shouldn't have underestimated you; to deduce that this, in fact, was not my apartment in such a short time is most surprising."

"I'm a complete stranger who you assumed was a thief at best and a spy in a worst case scenario, scratch that I could have been some kind of suicide bomber. I wouldn't take you back to where I lived if the roles had been reversed. So is this the penthouse of some fancy hotel? Why wasn't there a mint on my pillow?"

"Clever and funny, I'm starting to like you." Victor leaned up against the island in the center of the kitchen and smirked at Yuuri. "You guessed right, I had a friend book the suite and snuck both of us in the back entrance to avoid prying eyes; as I said before I don't want people finding out where I am. The staff delivered the food so I could try and cook breakfast, although I wasn't lying about the eggs burning so fast."

Yuuri frowned, not entirely sure how much of what Victor had said was true but it would be best to keep any further suspicions to himself for the time being. "Well, we can either go out to eat somewhere or we can order room service because there's no food here and I'm starving even if you're not. Although if you do decide to eat out I'd prefer to take a shower first, and possibly change into another set of clothes?"

The actor bit his lip thoughtfully, clearly not wanting to be spotted but, as he mulled over the options his own stomach gave a small growl. Pink crept into those flawless pale cheeks as he looked up at me. "Please tell me you didn't hear that."

The black-haired man smirked, maybe this "perfect man" wasn't so perfect after all. "Hear what? I didn't hear anything."

With a slight quirk of his lips, Victor put down the pan and leaned up against the counter, his piercing eyes focused on Yuuri. He knew what he must look like to the actor, a skinny Asian boy with black hair that came just below his chin because he hadn't been able to cut it in months. His brown eyes weren't anything special, and the glasses that hid them were years old with thick blue frames he'd liked as a teenager and a prescription that just barely allowed him to see. Yuuri was just grateful his genes made it near impossible for him to grow facial hair or he would have looked as homeless as he'd actually been, and a whole lot less trustworthy.

The rest of Yuuri was equally unimpressive, average height, his cheeks hollowed out from months without eating well even before losing his job, purple smudges under his eyes thanks to lack of sleep. In short, a mess and there wasn't much even a man like Victor could do to fix something as broken as Yuuri.

"I'll call for a change of clothes for both of us, you take a shower and then we'll both grab a bite to eat, sound good?" He smiled at Yuuri once more, just what was his real personality like? It kept changing from serious to aloof to flirtatious, bouncing from one to another like a pinball in a machine. Would he ever understand this man? Without allowing his mind to focus on any of the questions he’d come up with Yuuri went to the bathroom to shower.

The hot water was a blessing on his aching body, the dirt and grime from weeks and weeks on the street turning the water a dark brown as it ran down his torso and into the drain. The soap smelled of citrus and Yuuri practically rubbed his skin raw with it, the urge to wash away the memories and pain manifesting itself as harsh scrubs until his chest was red. His hair was stiff from who knew what and it took a good deal of shampoo to soften it until he could actually attempt to comb the tangles out with his fingers before attempting to tame it with conditioner.

Yuuri wanted to stay under the water for ages but his stomach protested, the lure of actual fresh food the only thing that could have pulled me away. A knock sounded on the bathroom door as he swept damp bangs back so they weren't sticking to his face and he opened the door after ensuring the towel around his waist was firmly in place.

Victor looked the Yuuri up and down, maybe with his glasses off and the dirt that had covered him gone he looked different? "I, um, I have clothes for you." The actor thrust a pile of clothing into still-damp arms, this time he was the one avoiding having their eyes meet as his cheeks filled with color. Surely an actor of his caliber he must have ever shot scenes like this before?

"Thanks, I'll change right away." Yuuri smiled appreciatively back at Victor before closing the door. The clothes he'd been given were a simple pair of jeans, a blue flannel shirt, and a gray sweatshirt; nothing too fancy but they were warm and clean.

Emerging from the bathroom Yuuri felt better than he had in a long time, apart from his growling stomach, and when he entered the living room Victor was sprawled on one of the plush couches talking on his phone with someone in Russian once more. His tone was calm but firm before he suddenly spoke harshly and switched to English, "I meant what I told Yakov, I've already made up my mind so don't try to change it." He hung up and shoved his phone into a pocket before noticing I was there.

"You clean up nicely." He smiled at Yuuri but it didn't reach his eyes, clearly whatever Victor had been discussing had bothered him. He'd changed as well, the actor now wore a burgundy sweater and a black pair of skinny jeans accentuated his long, toned legs like they'd been sculpted onto him. This man was a god given human form and it didn’t make sense for him to be standing in the same room as Yuuri at all.

"Is... Is everything ok?" Yuuri’s voice trembled slightly, he didn't want to intrude if there was a chance the actor needed some time by himself to collect his thoughts.

Victor quirked an eyebrow in a manner one could only assume under normal circumstances would have made him look confused, but because of whatever thoughts were racing through that perfect head of his it just came off as irritated. "A small dispute with the agency about where I've been, nothing to worry about," he rose to his full and considerable height and stretched. "I've made a reservation for breakfast, shall we be off?"

The black-haired man had been about to nod enthusiastically before he took in the actor’s appearance once more, the distinctive silver hair and blue eyes that marked him as Victor Nikiforov and nobody else. “Will it be alright to go out like that? Weren’t you worried about being seen by paparazzi last night?”

“Once we’re in the car it doesn’t matter, we just have to be cautious when we leave the hotel and arrive at the restaurant. You can handle that, right?”  
With a nervous nod Yuuri shifted his weight from one foot to the other and Victor grinned slightly. "Shall we be off? The car is waiting for us downstairs."

-_-_

The restaurant, a place called De La Iglesia's, was apparently owned by someone Victor knew and had a separate and secret back room reserved for those who wanted to escape the public eye. The two men were ushered into the delivery entrance into a room of wood-paneled walls decorated with several paintings of flowers and landscapes where a lone table sat with three chairs. Three? Yuuri was confused, would someone else joining them?

Before he could voice his question two people stepped out of what Yuuri assumed was the kitchen and he was unsurprised to see he recognized neither of them. The taller of the two men had tanned skin and blonde curly hair, the shorter man wore his straight brown hair in a bob cut, his skin less tan but still darker than Yuuri’s own and contrasting sharply against his chef's coat. "Chris, Leo!" Victor shook the chef's hand before he embraced the taller of the two men with obvious relief to see them. "Glad you could make it Chris, you understand what I wanted to discuss with you?"

Not wanting to be noticed Yuuri hung back by the door he'd entered through and a part of him wished he I could run away, but the rich smell of roasting meat and baking pastry kept his feet planted. He examined the one called Chris more closely, they looked vaguely familiar but he was unable to think of where he might have seen the man before. He had a long face with some scruff on his chin as though he hadn't shaved in a few days, his eyes were green with surprisingly long eyelashes, and the hair around the nape of his neck was actually brown instead of blonde like the result of a botched dye job.

He must have noticed another pair of eyes on him because Chris's green eyes landed on Yuuri as his dark eyebrows rose in surprise. "Who's this? Victor, you mentioned something about finding a stray puppy, is this him?" Puppy? Yuuri didn’t understand what this strange man was talking about? Was it some kind of code?

"Yup, I found him on the street. Isn't he cute?" Cute? Yuuri might have look better with all the dirt washed away and wearing clean clothes but that didn't change his hollow cheeks and the dark smudges under his eyes. If he was honest there wasn't a single part of him he thought could be called cute. "He goes by Yuuri, ‘Just Yuuri.’"

The blonde turned back to Victor in surprise. "Yuri? Your protégé won't be happy about that."

"I think there's more emphasis on the first part," he turned to Yuuri again. "What language is your name?"

"Uh, it's Japanese..." The Katsuki’s had been from Japan but whatever the reason behind them moving to the United States hadn't ever been discussed. Since nobody knew for sure where Yuuri had been from they’d decided to give him a name from their homeland. "You did pronounce it correctly though."

"We'll deal with the kitty when we have to, our focus right now is on the puppy in front of us."

"P-please don't call me that..." It felt awkward to be referred to as an animal instead of a person, like in the few months on the street Yuuri had lost his humanity.

"Sorry," Victor grimaced but somehow he managed to make the expression still seem attractive. "You remind me of... maybe a little black lab? With your big brown eyes it's like looking at a sad puppy so I couldn't help making the comparison, but trust me when I say I love dogs and it's actually a compliment."

Anyone who knew about Victor Nikiforov knew about his dog Makkachin, a brown poodle he loved to spoil and gush about when given the opportunity, so there was no reason to doubt his love for dogs in general. Yuuri was doubtful of the comparison though. Big brown eyes? It was better to humor him. "I like dogs too, I always wanted one when I was a kid but that never happened."

"Why not?" The actor frowned, one long finger pressed to his chin in confusion.

"Because the group home that couldn't afford pets. They had enough trouble managing us and a dog would have been too much work." A part of Yuuri wanted to get a sign that said "I am an orphan" on it and hang it from his neck. He had a feeling that it would be the answer to why he’d missed out on a lot of things the average person did growing up.

"I didn't get Makkachin until I was eighteen, growing up I wasn't allowed to have a pet either, but once I was on my own I got her immediately after I saw her in a store window. I feel bad that I can't spend more time with her but hopefully, she understands I have to work or she can't get all the nice things I buy her." Victor's eyes softened, his expression gentle as he talked about his dog. Was there a possibility that he was human after all?

"So," the chef, Leo apparently, interrupted what might have been an essay on how great the dog was. "You came here to eat, right?"

At the mention of food Yuuri’s stomach couldn't help grumbling and everyone in the room gave a slight chuckle. "So I was right, should I get some menus for the three of you?"

Yuuri looked between Victor and Chris uncertainly, not entirely sure if he felt welcome sitting at the same table as two people who radiated confidence like sunshine. However, both of them looked pointedly at him after they had taken their seats and there was no other option but to sink into the wooden chair while wishing he could disappear.

The blonde held out a large, tanned hand. "I'm Christophe Giacometti, Victor's manager; tell me about yourself Yuuri."

His manager? Panic gripped Yuuri as his mind began to race. Wouldn't Chris be mad at him for taking Victor away from whatever work he had today? The phone call from earlier started to make sense now, he'd definitely already had things on his agenda and thanks to Yuuri, the actor was missing them.

"I- I'm Yuuri, there's not really much to tell about me," With a weak smile he struggled to calm his rapidly beating heart. "I'm twenty years old... um, I'm not really sure what you want me to tell you."

Chris covered his smile with one hand as he glanced over to the actor seated beside him. "Victor filled me in on some of the details of how you two met so you needn't bring that up,” a slight pause. "What kind of work did you do at your old job Yuuri?"

Out of all the questions running through Yuuri’s head that hadn’t been one of them, if he was being honest with himself; he also hadn't prepared a response that didn't sound idiotic. "I was a secretary at a dentist's office so I helped schedule appointments, took phone calls, filed paperwork and things of that nature; it wasn't all that interesting but it helped pay the bills somewhat."

"Did you ever deal with difficult clients?" Yuuri was surprised that Chris seemed genuinely interested in his life as a paper-pusher, which confused him.

"Yes, there were people whose insurance didn't cover procedures and they took out their frustration on me." Yuuri had hated those people, they'd screamed threats at him just because he was the person they spoke to, it didn't matter that there was no possible way for him to be responsible for whatever their situation was, they just wanted someone to yell at. He'd done my best to calmly reason with them but there had been occasions where he’d come close to calling the police on several people who refused to listen to reason.

"You also did chores and cooked meals in the group home, is that correct?" Chris smiled as Leo came back with menus for all of as well as glasses of water before returning to the kitchen.

Squinting at the rows of food options Yuuri tried to bring them into focus with his old prescription, it was hard and he ended up having to bring the menu closer to his face. He was starving and it felt like he could have eaten one of everything but the memory of one time he'd found a twenty-dollar bill still haunted him. Yuuri had taken the opportunity to buy a decent meal only to vomit it back up a couple hours later. His body wasn't in any condition for decadent food so something light was the best option, meaning as much as the French toast covered in peanut butter and bananas looked amazing it was off limits. "Yes, I was the oldest child in the house so I helped look after the younger kids and helped out where I could."

Chris glanced at Victor who gave an almost imperceptible nod to some unasked question before they both returned their gazes to him. "Well Yuuri, we'd like to make you Victor's personal assistant; you'd be responsible for making sure he gets places on time and managing his schedule. You would also ensure he actually eats something besides protein bars since that is not a meal, go over his lines, anything that I can't get to because I'm too busy getting him roles and dealing with fake gossip."

Yuuri suddenly wasn't hungry anymore. Victor Nikiforov's assistant? Him? Something didn't seem right about responsibilities he’d be given though. "It sounds a like an assistant mixed with a babysitter, if you don't mind me saying so."

"I'm not going to lie and say it won't be like handling a child since despite being able to do practically any role thrown at him he still wanders off if he sees a dog." Victor coughed, most likely embarrassed at being described in such a manner. "We'll give you a test period of a month to see if you're cut out for the job before officially appointing you to the position, and since you're responsible for Victor you'll be living with him, do you have any questions?"

Yesterday Yuuri hadn't lived anywhere, and now? Now he was going to live with Victor effing Nikiforov. What on earth had he gotten himself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Victor, we know why you blushed looking at Yuuri when he's just in a towel :3
> 
> Now Yuuri has a job... for the time being. Due to the fact I'm a barista and have never done more than cosplay (cough wig knowledge) and stage crew when it comes to acting I will rely on what I've read for a look into the lives of actors and that life. Most likely Skip Beat.
> 
> I don't know if anyone noticed I also started coming up with chapter titles, or rather I'm using the lyrics from [Moon-Viewing Recital](https://youtu.be/B_g1qAmofAc) because they fit the story. It's from Kagerou Project which is big and confusing and awesome If you have questions about the series feel free to ask me on my [Tumblr](https://midnightcrowisabadname.tumblr.com/). Long story short its about an idol comforting a boy who lost his friend.
> 
> I'd really love to hear feedback on this story because while I like it I'm very worried people won't feel the same way... I am a Yuuri in anxiety and my own head getting in my way so critique is appreciated.
> 
> P.S. I totally had the french toast with peanut butter and bananas while on a forced family vacation, it also had bacon bits and was totally delicious.


	3. I knew simply saying "don't give up" wasn't going to cut it

After leaving De La Iglesia’s Victor and Chris practically dragged Yuuri into the black Maserati so they could take him shopping for clothes appropriate for his new position. Apparently the cheap stores he considered adequate for buying things from wouldn’t do, and for the first time in his life he stepped into a designer boutique with glass front doors and a chandelier that was reflected on the speckled marble floors. From what the black-haired man could tell as he squinted around, struggling to bring things into focus, this was a place where the price tags had three figures minimum. His palms began to sweat at the thought of touching anything in here, let alone purchasing five suits like the pair of celebrities wanted him to do.

“Are you sure we can’t go someplace less expensive? Please, I’m not worth this amount of trouble...” If Yuuri was being completely honest with himself he felt unwelcome being in this part of Sterling. It was full of upscale stores and expensive restaurants, and it was a known fact that only the wealthiest people even considered shopping here.

“Yuuri,” Victor addressed the black-haired man with his arms folded over his chest in an act of relaxed defiance, as though dealing with homeless men working for him happened every day. “If you are to be my assistant you have to look the part, what would the press say if they found out I was associating with someone who didn’t even know how to dress himself?”

“If this is what’s considered normal dress in your profession then no, I don’t know how to dress.” It wasn’t a lie, he had no clue what kind of clothes were in style, what colors went with each other besides his own personal opinion, and if paisley was still a thing. Yuuri had watched The Devil Wears Prada when it was on TV back at the home and it was the closest thing to a fashion lesson he’d ever gotten.

Chris merely greeted the salesperson who approached them with a winning smile before gesturing to Yuuri. He couldn’t hear what was being said to persuade them to actually take the black-haired man as a customer but it must have worked because he was whisked away to have his measurements taken. His clothes were stripped off in a back room with large mirrors leaning up against the walls and boxes of fabric and shoes haphazardly stacked on one another and he forced his arms remain at his sides instead of covering his bare chest from cold and embarrassment. The brown-haired woman must have had remarkable composure because she didn’t even bat an eye at Yuuri’s emaciated form as she wrapped the tape measure around his torso and limbs, jotting each of the numbers down on a piece of paper.

After that he was pushed into a dressing room that was as large as Yuuri’s old apartment had been to try on different suits, with strict instructions to actually come out and show his chaperones what he looked like in each of them, much to his delight. The first one was navy blue with a pinstriped blue vest, a simple white dress shirt, and a thin blue tie, the whole thing was a bit big on him and he wondered if he was meant to fit it when he was a healthy weight.

Yuuri took a deep breath before looking in the mirror, not sure he’d like what he saw, and he was right to be worried. The pants threatened to slip down his thighs and both the shirt and the jacket’s sleeves fell past his fingertips, he looked like a child playing dress-up in his father’s clothes, trying to be more mature than he actually was. The colors of the suit weren’t awful, in fact they looked nice against his pale skin, it was just the wrong size for his emaciated body, and the black leather belt he’d been given didn’t do much because the holes only went so far. The only saving grace was that he hadn’t botched up the tie, he’d had to wear one for his old job and it had taken a while to get the hang of tying it properly.

“Yuuri?” Victor’s voice called out from the other side of the dressing room. “Are you dressed?” The door swung open and Yuuri realized he’d forgotten to lock it. The actor took in the black-haired man’s appearance without changing his expression, those blue eyes unreadable as they examined how awful he looked before turning and calling out to the woman who’d measured him. “Do you have this in a smaller size?”

To his intense relief the suit she brought Yuuri to change into fit much better, although it still didn’t look great on him. _Then again it is me, you can’t put a street rat into fine clothes and expect him to blend in._ The next hour he was forced into suit after suit, white ones, black ones, gray and even pink ones, shirts of every color and pattern, ties that choked him and shoes that felt wrong on his feet, until finally Chris and Victor settled on ones they thought would work.

An hour later the three left the shop to Yuuri’s intense relief, although he’d been made to wear one of the outfits that had been purchased. It was simple in appearance, a black V-neck sweater over a blue collared shirt and slim-fitting dark jeans that were still a bit loose; he ran a finger over the sweater, cashmere, rich people sure loved their cashmere. He was then taken to get his hair trimmed, just a trim though because apparently the chin length mop I sported didn’t look too bad no matter what he thought. Lastly he got a new pair of glasses and several pairs of contacts since Chris had noticed the vision problems and preferred that Yuuri would be able to see what he was doing.

Dressed in new, expensive clothes with his hair slicked back and a pair of contacts he’d struggled to put in Yuuri looked older, _heck I almost look my age._ His birthday was at the end of the month, he’d be turning twenty-one although he wouldn’t mention it to anyone. He had no way of knowing if it really was his birthday, and it had only reminded him that his birth parents hadn’t wanted him. Birthdays were to celebrate one’s birth, but he regretted being born, and with each passing year it only served as a message that he hadn’t accomplished anything.

-_-_-_

The Maserati pulled up in front of a large unmarked building made of metal, its walls devoid of windows or signs to tell me where Yuuri was or who might be inside it. Getting out of the car Chris thanked the driver whose face had yet to be seen thanks to large mirrored sunglasses and the privilege of sitting in the back seat, and the black-haired man began to follow the manager before a shout from in front of us caused the little group to halt.

“There you are old man!” A teenager stomped up to Victor, his blonde hair pulled back into a short ponytail and a sneer contorting his pale, sharp features, blue eyes blazing with anger. He was short, but then again it was clear he hadn’t finished growing; he didn’t look older than sixteen and his slight yet muscular frame suggested a history of dancing. He wore a black t-shirt with a tiger on it over black skinny jeans and despite the cold weather he wore no sweatshirt. “You were supposed to be here at noon so we could start filming!”

“Ah, Yura,” The actor smiled in a way Yuuri was beginning to recognize as forced, an automatic response and nothing more. “I called Yakov this morning to say I’d be late, I picked up a puppy that needed to be cared for.” _There he goes again calling me a dog, I supposed I’d better get used to it._

“You’re still three hours late, everyone’s been waiting for you so we can start,” he spotted Yuuri and scowled. “Who’s the loser?”

“The stray puppy!” Victor gestured for Yuuri to come forward as he introduced the angry teenager. “This is Yuri Plisetsky, although he’s just starting to make headlines he’s been acting ever since he was five and recently won an award for best supporting role in a movie.” The blonde, Yuri apparently, looked to the black-haired man with a glare, one lip curled in disgust as the boy looked him up and down. “Yura, this is Yuuri, my new assistant.”

There it was, the vast difference between the two of them, although their names were essentially the same to anyone who heard them Yuuri was nothing compared to the child in front of him, and the blonde knew it. “He can’t be Yuri, I’m Yuri and there can’t be two of us.” He snarled, taking several steps towards the black-haired man so their faces were inches each other and it was possible to smell the coffee on his breath, although his words didn’t seem directed at Yuuri.

“Now, now, this Yuuri’s older than you are so he was here first.” Victor’s expression of fake amusement hadn’t changed, although what was so amusing about our situation wasn’t clear. “Would you like me to come up with a nickname for you?”

“No!” Yuri snapped, his eyes blazing with anger. “You already call me kitten and it’s insulting enough! Come up with some name for him, people already know my name and he’s nobody.” Without waiting for a response the teen stormed back into the building, leaving the three men, or Yuuri at least, to wonder what happened.

“So that was the kitten I mentioned, feisty isn’t he?” Victor seemed unaffected by Yuri’s temper or harsh words, he hadn’t even responded to being called old.

“I guess, I hadn’t expected to meet anyone that... angry.” Yuuri wasn’t sure how to describe the blonde actor since he’d never actually heard of him and therefore didn’t know what he might have starred in.

“We should come up with some way to tell the two of you apart though,” Chris spoke up for the first time since we’d been ambushed, his smile genuine where Victor’s wasn’t. “We wouldn’t want anyone getting confused about who we’re referring to.”

“You can call me something else, after all he’s right about me I am nobody.” He’d gotten used to his worthlessness after years of being looked at by strangers interested in adopting a child but wanting someone more... anything than Yuuri was. He wasn’t especially smart, nor good looking, nor whatever it was that people wanted in a kid, and it hadn’t much changed as he’d grown into an adult.

“Don’t say that,” Victor’s face was serious again, like it had been when Yuuri had first run into him. “Don’t let other people decide your self-worth, you can be anything even if you aren’t something now but you have to have faith in yourself first.”

“Yuri has been acting and dancing for ten years, his whole family is comprised of actors, musicians, models so he’s had more opportunities than most people. I mean before Victor was an actor he-”

“We’re not talking about me right now.” The silver-haired actor’s forced smile was back, what had Chris been about to say?

“Anyway, everyone has to start somewhere, so instead of focusing on what you aren’t figure out what you might want to be someday.”

_-_-_-_

Apparently Victor was guest-starring in a drama series about paranormal investigators, he was playing the ringleader in a creepy circus where children went missing and Yuri Plisetsky was one of the other entertainers. The cast had done what they could with their antagonist missing but now that he was here they could actually start filming the important things, or that was what Yuuri picked up from the general commotion in the studio.

The late comers were ushered into makeup chairs by Georgi, a man with a pale face and the fashion sense of... someone who thought purple eyeshadow and black lipstick was a good idea. He knew how to do other people’s makeup and hair though, just evidently not his own, because Victor and Yuri were finished with him within minutes before being passed to the costume department.

Mila was a cheerful woman with curly red hair and an infectious smile who found pleasure in making the teenage actor uncomfortable, or possibly everyone. “Wait, so your name is Yuri too? We should give our Yuri a nickname so we can tell you two apart!”

“I already said nobody’s changing my name hag!” Yuri Plisetsky growled, snatching his hat from the woman and glaring at where the black-haired man stood on the side of the dressing room. His character was an acrobat and his blonde hair was braided with beads and feathers, his pale face made even paler with powder and whorls of purple and blue crawling up his neck, over his left cheek and around one eye. He wore burgundy shorts that came to his knees embroidered with silver roses over white stockings and ankle-length black boots, a form-fitting white tank top and a blue vest with tailcoats covered his torso. Atop his head perched a miniature black top hat with a silver band and purple feather, and his hands were covered in black gloves; on anyone else it might have looked absurd, but on him it worked, even if his expression was deadly.

“I like Yurio as a nickname, what do you think Mila?” Victor pulled on a pair of white gloves and grinned, his own white makeup causing him to look sinister. Where the teen had swirls of color adorning his cheeks the man merely had a blue line running vertically through his right eye, a cluster of red stars above the other eyebrow. Georgi had given him dark purple eyeshadow, black eyeliner and navy blue lipstick that contrasted with the silver hair which had been pushed off his face with gel. He wore a deep purple dress shirt and dark gray pants with knee length black boots and a red tailcoat embroidered with blue and silver stars, the collar and cuffs of which were blue, and his own top hat was a full-size version of Yuri’s.

“Did you even hear what I said old man?”

“Not a word Yurio, and I believe I’ve held up everyone here long enough, shall we be off?”

_-_-_-

Yuuri was impressed with the set itself, a fake circus tent of purple, blue, and white silk stood tall in an enormous room lined with cameras on cranes, dollies, tracks. Men and women clustered together in groups, some with boom mikes, others by tables piled with food and bottles of water, one particularly large group was occupied by people dressed like Victor and Yuri. Yuuri didn’t mind the nickname for the teen since he hadn’t been the one to come up with it, and so far he hadn’t used it. He hoped he wouldn’t be the target of the young actor though, it would make things hard.

When the director, a brown-haired man of average height approached us he was both delighted and anxious. “Victor! I was worried you wouldn’t show! Emil sprained his ankle and I was hoping you might know someone who could take his place! It’s not a big role and there aren’t any speaking lines, but if you have an idea of someone who could help out I’m all ears.”

“What kind of a role is it?” Chris approached the director and I followed behind him anxiously.

“It’s just one of the other performers, a knife-thrower, they’re in the background and it’s no big deal if we can’t find a replacement but if you know anyone...”

Victor turned to Yuuri, eyes glinting in the many lights surrounding them. “Ever thrown knives before?”

“What?” He stammered, not entirely sure he understood what he was being asked.

“Can you do the part? We need someone last minute and I’d rather not hold up shooting much longer if we don’t have to.”

“Y-yes, one of the other kids taught me when I was younger but-”

“It’s settled then,” he turned to address Chris. “Take Yuuri to Georgi and Mila, we’ll shoot what we can without him.”

Yuuri was once again dragged away against his will to be fussed over by a stranger, his face covered in powder like the others, and one purple tear drawn below his left eye in addition to the blue eyeliner and lipstick. He was given a black dress shirt with puffed sleeves and a pair of purple shorts, white thigh-high socks and boots that matched Yuri’s, but he didn’t have any hat, much to his relief. He felt absurd enough as it was, he didn’t need any other accessories and the fake knives he’d been given looked too realistic for his liking.

When he returned to the set it was in the middle of filming, the two protagonists whose names Yuuri didn’t know were talking with Victor outside of the tent, most likely confronting him about the things they’d heard happening. The silver-haired man was smiling like normal, but his eyes were cold and didn’t betray a hint of emotion in them as he interacted with the man and woman, the black-haired man was too far away to hear what was being said but the director didn’t seem to have a problem with anything after the scene ended. “Good! Very good!” Yuuri met Victor’s eyes from across the room and he quirked his blue lips before returning his gaze to the director.

“Yuuri! You look like a whole different person!” Chris clapped him on the back, hard, nearly causing him to drop the knives he held.

“T-thanks, Mila and Georgi really know what they’re doing,” Yuuri adjusted his cuffs nervously. “I’m not sure I can do this though, I’ll probably let everyone down.”

“You don’t know that, you’re essentially an extra and there are only a few scenes you’ll be in. Besides, what better way to start over than by pretending to be someone else?”  
Chris’s words reminded Yuuri of what he’d started to say earlier. “You mentioned Victor’s life before he was an actor, but he didn’t seem to like that. Did something happen to him?”

The blonde smiled but his eyes were sad. “That’s Victor’s story to tell, but I don’t think he’ll get too mad at me if I say that he knows what it’s like to suffer, and he’s stronger for it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was watching Black Butler: Book of Circus this week, sue me for wondering what these dorks would look like in that setting. I also was very torn over whether or not Yuuri would actually be in the episode but I decided to do it anyway, just to have Victor see what he looked like. Since they are starting out as strangers with no real reason to trust each other yet I need to do something to set the romance rolling.
> 
> Yurio.. ah I think I'm going to have fun with him since he doesn't even know Yuuri's backstory yet, I do feel bad for my little cinnamon roll though because Yurio doesn't exactly know how to hold his tongue and Yuuri will probably think he deserves the horrible things said to him. My poor baby.
> 
> I think for other acting jobs for Victor I'm just going to reference fanfics on here, any suggestions? I mean, he'd essentially play himself.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, giving kudos, commenting, etc. I'd probably have stopped writing without those things.


	4. Then you need to keep your spirits up or tomorrow will daze you too

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this isn't as good as the others, I am literally on a train right now as I went to a friend's wedding yesterday and I still want to meet my deadlines. I did stop in NYC on my trip which should help with city-building and describing plus I ran into someone wearing a Victor shirt on Saturday. You probably won't read this but if this sounds like you hi!

“Where did Victor find you again?” Yuri slouched next to the food table before popping a grape into his mouth, chewing it with his mouth open.

“Well, uh, he and I met yesterday and when he heard I’d lost my job I guess he wanted to help me out or something. I’m not entirely sure what happened.” Yuuri was silently hoping the teen wouldn’t dig deeper, he wasn’t sure how he could keep the truth from coming out so he decided to walk closer to the set in fake interest of the scene being filmed.

“Now that you gentlemen have been given a tour would you like to see the show?” Victor smiled slyly and rested one gloved hand on a sleek black and silver cane while he gestured to the tent with the other. “The greatest show on earth, it would be a shame to miss it when you had the chance to witness such a spectacle.”

Suddenly Yuri stood in front of the tent, pulling the flap over the entrance back with one hand as he dipped into a flawless bow. “The show starts in half an hour gentlemen, I hope to see you in the stands.” The silver-haired actor swept into the dome of silk, tailcoats flapping behind him as he disappeared from view.

“Cut!” Yuri and Victor returned to where the director and other crew members stood to discuss the latest scene and Yuuri noticed his employer trying to catch his eye before gesturing for him to join them. He approached on silent footsteps, not wanting to interrupt their conversation but the brown-haired man noticed him anyway.

“You!” He shoved a thick finger so close to Yuuri’s face it nearly touched his nose. “Substitute knife-thrower. What’s your name?”

“Oh it's-” He started to respond but Victor interrupted, thrusting one gloved hand in front of his face.

“Eros, he goes by Eros because he prefers that his real name stays a secret.” He actually hadn’t considered that, if he did go on television using the name Yuuri Katsuki it could attract unwanted attention to both himself and the group home. But why Eros? It was such a weird name to use on a person as plain as he was.

“Fine, whatever.” The director took a sip of coffee before pointing to a highlighted section of the script. “You’re going to be in the next few scenes where the circus is actually performing, you don’t have any lines but I still want you to know what you’re doing since we lost so much time already.”

He flipped through the pages, it didn’t seem too hard, thank goodness. Yuuri was to stand in the background while the other members of the circus performed and he’d have maybe fifteen seconds to show off his “knife throwing” skills. The other actors took their places inside the tent while he stood off to the side and practiced tossing and catching the prop knives he’d been given. They were about ten inches long and made of sturdy plastic, the handles wrapped in black leather and the tips were sharp enough that he stabbed he fingers a few times as he got used to their weight.

Yuuri was called to the tent to watch as people balanced on tightropes, flipped in the air, and twirled while waving scarves before it was his turn and his stomach flipped over on itself. _What am I doing? I’m not a knife-thrower, I’m not even an actor._ He flipped the fake knife in his hands a couple of times before gripping the blade between thumb and forefinger, drawing it back to his face before sending it flying with a flick of his wrist. It sailed into the apple they’d placed on a mannequin’s head, he assumed they’d digitally add a person later or the scene would look pretty lame. For good measure he twirled a second knife in his fingers before turning away from the camera and walking away, still playing with the silver blade he held.

“Impressive,” Victor’s voice came from right next to Yuuri’s ear after he'd taken up his place by the tent wall and he nearly jumped out of his skin, the actor seemed to materialize from the shadows just like his character. “You have more talents than I realized.”

While rolling his eyes as Yuuri tossed one of the knives in the air again and caught it. “One of the other kids thought it was cool and taught me how to throw a while ago, it was just something to do with my time and as long as I didn’t hurt anyone the owners were fine with us practicing.” He grabbed a second knife and threw it up as well, juggling the two blades by the hilts and grinning sheepishly. “Two is my limit though.”

“It’s still more than I can do, and it definitely helped today since Emil got hurt and couldn’t perform.” Victor grinned at Yuuri, and for once his smile seemed genuine.

-_-_-_-

“Eros? Seriously old man what is wrong with you?” Yuri Plisetsky pointed at the silver-haired actor with his fork. “You call me Yurio and kitten, but for this loser you barely know you give him the name Eros?”

They’d gone back to what Yuuri assumed was Victor's penthouse apartment once filming had finished. It was larger than the suite he'd woken up in only this morning but not by much, enough space to fit two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a living room only separated by a simple grayish-blue couch decorated with striped pillows and a single blanket. A desk had been placed next to the door with a fancy desktop computer and a plant that seemed close to death on it and a flat-screen TV sat in front of the couch on a shelf piled with magazines. His favorite part of the room has to be the large word art piece hanging above the desk that read in simple, bold letters "I have no time for your negative bullshit." Was that a dig at Yuri's attitude or his mantra?

“Uh, to be fair he calls me puppy a lot too...” The black-haired man interjected, not touching his food thanks to the anxiety still curling around his stomach. He'd eaten just enough that he could take more cold medicine but that was it. The rest of the scenes had been shot in quick succession and Yuuri had only been needed to stand in the background a couple more times but it had been more than enough for his already shaken nerves.

They sat at an ordinary wooden table next to the large kitchen's island, and Yuuri thought once again that the room looked like it should be on a cooking show. Every appliance and counter was made of gleaming metal that shone brightly, and an induction stove had been installed into the island, most likely so Victor didn't burn himself if he actually did cook. Two long shelves stretched the length of the counters holding cups, plates, wine and water glasses while the counters themselves held coffee cups and saucers as well as a high-tech looking espresso bar that appeared to never have been used. He was itching to cook but there had been trays of food waiting for them when they'd gotten there.

“Not talking to you,” the teen rolled his eyes, stabbing another piece of steak and shoving it into his mouth, not bothering to finish chewing before speaking. “Where did you find such a weirdo anyway? What’s wrong with him, why’s he so skinny?”

“Well Yurio if you must know I found him yesterday when I was going home and decided to help him out since he had no job and no place to stay. If you had seen a stray kitten what would you do? Would you leave it to starve on the streets?”

Yuri pushed back from the table and jumped to his feet, face contorted in rage as he stared, no glared at Yuuri. “You really have lost it old man, if you’re telling me you picked a homeless stranger to be the effing assistant to award-winning actor Victor Nikiforov.” Those green eyes slid over to where Chris was staring at the ice in his glass instead of anyone else in the room. “Did you really let him do this? You were really okay with this talentless loser working for your client? You trust a bum not to stab Victor in his sleep and steal anything of value?”

“I’m not going to stab him.”

“You seemed pretty effing skilled with those knives earlier.” The teen practically growled as he fumed. “You hired a nobody and yet you can’t remember to help me go over my lines for my next movie.”

Victor grinned in a way that said “please stop talking.” “Did I forget something again?”

“Yesterday night! While you were busy dealing with homeless weirdos you were supposed to help me understand my character! Why doesn’t he talk when he has things to say? How do I play him? I still don’t know because you never showed up!”

“I can go over your lines with you.” Yuuri raised his hand tentatively as if he were back in school and a teacher was asking who knew the answer. He also knew how Yuri would answer.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to talk to me? You’re less than a nobody and you won’t be of any use even if you tried as hard as you could!”

**Slam!** Victor rose from the table in one single graceful movement before slamming a hand on the table, causing the glasses and silverware to rattle. “Yura, I don’t care what you say about me because I’m an adult and I can handle your hateful words, but if you dare insult my assistant in such a manner I’m not going to take it lightly.” The actor’s blue eyes were cold, as though they were made of ice, and his face held no trace of the casual amusement it usually did. “Apologize or get out.”

“What?”

“I gave you two options, apologize to Yuuri or leave at once. You don’t know anything about him and yet you said such terrible things without letting him defend himself. I refuse to have such a hateful person in my home and it’s up to you how to fix the situation.”

The teen frowned, glancing between Victor and the Yuuri and I swear I saw the gears in his brain turn as he wondered what to do. He could either walk out the door with his pride intact or admit he was wrong to fling insults and not wreck his relationship, whatever that was, with Yuuri’s new employer. He wasn’t sure which option he preferred.

With a deep breath Yuuri turned back to the black-haired man, mouth in a tight line and shoulders sagging. “Ugh, I’m... I’m sorry.” He gagged as though the words sickened him and turned back to Victor. “Will you help me with my lines now?”

“No, I have a meeting with Yakov, but Yuuri will be happy to help you as long as you don’t insult him again.”

“What?” They both exclaimed at the same time.

“Play nice you two, I’m letting Makkachin out of my bedroom so give her some love too.” Then Victor and Chris were gone and Yuuri was left on his own with an angry teenager and a dog.

-_-_-_-_

“What’s the movie about?” Yuuri asked, picking up a stack of papers that had been thrown onto the couch entitled “Stories of Ulster," and flipping through it, sections had been highlighted and underlined, notes made in the margins and corners bent as bookmarks. Makkachin lay next to him on the floor, having been fed, walked, and given lots of belly-rubs.

“It’s about this acting troupe, they travel all over but in addition to performing plays they solve mysteries or something, each of the members has some weird talent that doesn’t relate to whatever the play is.” Yuri thumbed through a second script absentmindedly. “I act as this kid named Lev, and I’m apparently the quiet type but it mentions something about it not meaning he doesn’t have much to say. I don’t get it, why not talk if you have something to say?”

Yuuri looked at the teen in front of him, really looked at him, and then he couldn’t help but laugh. “How have you gotten this far as an actor if you can’t understand your characters?”

“I can play almost any character okay? It’s just this one I’m having problems with, I don’t get his way of thinking.”

“Well, just because you have something to say doesn’t mean you actually have to say it, you know it's because you couldn’t control your own tongue earlier you got in trouble. Also simply by listening to a conversation you can get a grasp on what’s going on without saying a word unless necessary, knowing when to not say anything is a really important skill if you want to get along with others.”

“I get along with people just fine!” Yuri pouted.

“Says the kid who called me a homeless bum without knowing my backstory." Yuuri’s voice was harsher than he meant for it to be. "I lost my job, then my apartment a few months ago, but sure, I’m a loser and you're inconsiderate.”

Yuri stared at the black-haired man and it sank in that despite his foul disposition and his age, this teen was still a celebrity and Yuuri had just insulted him. He could probably have Yuuri fired from a job he'd just gotten. "I'm sorry, it's just been a hard few months and the last twenty-four hours were especially weird."

The blonde-haired teen stared at Yuuri in what he assumed was confusion. What other emotion would a person feel in this situation? "Just how did you meet Victor?"

He'd find out the truth eventually. "I wanted to rob him, like I had no idea who he was since he was in a terrible disguise that somehow worked, but I meant to pick his pocket. Then I passed out in front of him because I had a fever, woke up in some hotel, Chris offered me a job... I'm not really sure if this is some dream and I'm going to wake up in an alley any minute now." It was the truth, everything that happened was so unbelievable it felt made up, despite the soft cashmere rubbing against his skin and the smell of cooked meat telling him otherwise.

Instead of laughing or yelling again Yuri merely sighed as if resigned to whatever it was that actually was happening. "That sounds like Victor alright. He really shouldn't be so soft considering his looks or profession but he still goes out of his way to help old ladies cross the street. They then almost have heart attacks because he's, well-"

"Victor effing Nikiforov?" Yuuri supplied, hoping that was the right answer. To his surprise the teen actually started grinning and he began to understand that underneath the tough exterior created because of Yuri’s job and what seemed to be a difficulty communicating with others, he was a nice kid.

"Exactly, he forgets the effect he has on people, either that or he just doesn't think at all."

"You're not helping me feel better about this job, although Chris did tell me I'd act somewhat as his babysitter." Yuuri laughed feeling more comfortable in his situation.  
Yuri looked at the script once more and sighed. "So, about this character I have to play?"

He looked for the conversations Lev actually did have with people, the few things he did say. “It looks like because this guy chooses not to speak, the things he does talk about make more of an impact; in a story everything happens for a reason and this must be his.”

"What, so because he doesn't talk much people pay attention when he actually says something?" The teen frowned, brows creasing as he read the lines again.

"Exactly, he has the element of surprise on his side and he knows it; he takes advantage of people talking too much while he simply listens, then they have to listen to him when he needs them to." It was pretty clever now that Yuuri thought about it.

"I think I understand, but until we get to rehearsals where all the other actors are there I'm not sure how to play him, how to react."

It was a dumb idea and Yuuri knew it but it was worth a try. "If you don't mind my horrible acting I can play the others, or you and I can read the script together."

"You want to play five people at once? You're crazy."

"If you don't want my help then I'll just go grocery shopping." Victor had given Yuuri a decent amount of money he was to use to stock the fridge and pantry and the sooner he did that the better he'd feel. Sure, he could get stuff delivered but he couldn't guarantee the condition of anything before it got to the penthouse.

"I'll take three, you take three, sound fair?" Yuri was adamant and he agreed, before he saw which characters the teen wanted Yuuri to play and his smile stiffened.

"Why am I all the girls? Couldn't I get one male role?"

"I'm not playing them and you did offer." A smirk twisted Yuri’s lips.

"Fine." Yuuri sighed before returning his attention to the script.

When Victor returned to his apartment it was to find the two of them engaged in a serious mock-argument between a ten-year-old girl who believed herself to be the leader and a serious, bookish man who worked as scriptwriter. His only question was whether he could join in and they each gave him a character to play before continuing with their sham of a rehearsal late into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cough.
> 
> Stories of Ulster is a concept I came up with years ago based around the 5-man band trope, although there is a sixth ranger. Lev Carver looks like Yuri and is also Russian so since I don't read much fanfiction besides victuuri I had to resort to my own stuff for a role he could play. Lev is the Lancer if you know about the trope, and Dee Dee, the ten-year-old girl is the "leader" hence Lev's quietness. I like him.
> 
> Victor's apartment is based on the real apartment they used as reference for the show, you can find pictures of it online including one that shows the wonderful "I have no time for your negative bullshit" thing, it was too brilliant not to include.
> 
> Also! I'm no great artist but I did attempt to draw ringmaster Victor and I posted it to my [Tumblr](https://midnightcrowisabadname.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I'll edit this chapter when I'm not on a train anymore but I wanted you guys to get an update.


	5. With that, I take you along a bit forcefully

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you didn't notice, I updated how many chapters there will be! Unlike Spring and Winter I actually sat down and plotted this whole story and used the song lyrics to figure out the chapter number from there. It may change if I add some side stories from other points of view, but as it's planned now there will be at least one chapter from Victor's point of view.
> 
> Also if anyone wants to be a beta or a wall to bounce ideas off of, or if you have questions about the story, or just want to say hi you can go to my [tumblr](midnightcrowisabadname.tumblr.com) and do so.

The alarm went off at seven in the morning and Yuuri blinked slowly at the ceiling, not wanting to get out of the nice, warm bed in what was now his room. One hand fumbled on the end table for his glasses after shutting the alarm off, and after a few tries he succeeded in grabbing them and shoving them onto his face, sitting up and staring around the room as he yawned. Yuuri was not what most people referred to as “a morning person” but he supposed he’d have to get used to waking up early once more if he wanted to keep this job, so he forced himself out of the bed and dragged his tired body into the bathroom.

After a quick shower he dressed quickly and filled Makkachin’s bowls with food and water before grabbing her leash off a hook next to the door. The poodle must have heard him even from Victor’s room because she bounded through the open door towards Yuuri, tail wagging happily and dog tags jingling.

“You wanna go for a walk girl?” He grinned at the dog, receiving an affectionate lick on his outstretched hand as he attached the leash to her collar. They took the elevator down to the lobby, Yuuri wasn’t sure if either of them could handle running down so many stairs this early in the morning. There were less than two weeks left in November and it was starting to get cold much faster, he was thankful for the coat that protected him from the bitter winds that assaulted him from all sides.

Had it really only been two days ago that he’d had to brave the weather alone? It felt like ages had gone by since Yuuri’s world had been flipped on its head and yet nothing had changed for anyone else. _But isn’t that just the way things work? Life stops for nobody, time bows to no man._

Makkachin stopped to sniff a neatly trimmed hedge, her black nose twitching as it went from leaf to leaf before she turned back to Yuuri as if she’d half-expected him to vanish. She was a really good dog and deserved to be spoiled, which made having an owner who only wanted the best for her perfect. The poodle padded over to him, tongue hanging out her open mouth, and he was about to head back to the apartment when a man stopped in front of them.

“That’s Victor Nikiforov’s dog, isn’t it?” Paparazzi, apparently they would stoop low enough to stop anyone with a poodle. Chris had told Yuuri not to talk to anyone he didn’t know, a reporter without a conscience wouldn’t think twice before twisting anyone’s words into headlines. The black-haired man tugged on Makkachin’s leash and turned around on the sidewalk, pretending not to notice the stranger.

“Why are you walking Victor’s dog? How do you know Victor?” They trailed next to Yuuri, phone out and no doubt recording in case something interesting happened, but it only made them quickened their pace. _The hotel had to be close, we couldn’t have gone that far._ He thought as he walked still faster. _Once I get inside the lobby hopefully they’ll leave me alone, or the staff would know what to do with paparazzi._

There, the revolving doors he’d used less than half an hour ago came into my sight and Yuuri practically sprinted towards them, Makkachin keeping up with him despite not knowing what was going on. He didn’t look back, just kept moving forward until he was indoors and heading straight for the elevators once again, only stopping when the metal doors had shut and they were headed upstairs.

Victor wasn’t up when they walked back into the apartment and he closed the door behind them before dropping the leash and sliding to the floor, his breath coming in sharp gasps as he struggled to control his panic. That had been one person, one guy with a phone as a camera and he’d barely been able to handle it. _Is this going to be my life now?_ Yuuri would have to figure out how to handle people like them, because there was no doubt he’d have to deal with hordes of paparazzi in the future and simply running away probably wouldn’t work in that situation.

Yuuri needed a distraction, something to do to take his mind off the mess he now called his life, plus he needed to eat something. Thanks to Yuri staying so late to practice last night he’d ordered groceries instead of picking them out for himself, and he searched through the now-full fridge for ingredients. Red and green peppers, an onion, broccoli, eggs, milk, and a block of Monterey Jack cheese filled his arms before he grabbed a knife and a cutting board and started work on chopping up the vegetables.

_For an actor it must be important to watch what you eat,_ Yuuri thought, and as much as he loved any kind of breakfast potatoes they didn’t have any nutritional value and were therefore not on the menu. Still, he needed something else to add to the meal so he took out a frying pan and the sizzling of sausages filled the air as he finished the preparations and began whisking the eggs.

“Something smells good.” Victor yawned as he entered the kitchen wearing nothing but a pair of sleep pants and Yuuri felt his cheeks flush. He’d been in the middle of pan-frying the vegetables and he chose to focus all of his attention on them to avoid looking at the actor, specifically his bare chest.

“I-I’m making vegetable omelets, is that okay with you? Oh! Do you have any food allergies so I can know what to avoid?” Yuuri prayed to whatever higher power there was that Victor didn’t hear the hitch in his voice.

“Not that I know of, no.” The actor leaned up against the counter, blue eyes watching as Yuuri scooped the cooked vegetables into a separate bowl before grabbing the block of cheese and grating it. “You really have done this before.”

“I told you I used to help cook meals at the group home, I had to get used to these things after ten years of doing them.” He gave the egg mixture in the bowl a quick whisk and checked the temperature of the second frying pan, having taken the sausages off the stove once they finished cooking. The pan sizzled as he poured half the eggs into it, waiting for them to cook slightly before adding the vegetables and cheese, finally placing a lid on it to keep the heat in and help it cook all the way.

“You’ve been cooking since you were ten? That’s admirable.” Victor smiled and pulled down several plates and cups from the shelf.

“I’ve been cooking by myself since I was ten, but I insisted on being taught how to cook around age seven so I could help more.” Steam fogged up Yuuri’s glasses as he removed the lid and folded the omelet over, flipping it onto the plate handed to him before starting on the second one. “For three years I only assisted or cooked with supervision, the owners made a chart for me and gave me a sticker when they thought I mastered a skill.”

Yuuri remembered being eight and cooking eggs by himself for the first time, cracking them into a bowl and trying not to get any shell in, standing on a box so he could see the stove. Mama Katsuki had been very impressed when he’d shown her the plate of scrambled, and slightly burned, eggs he’d made without any help.

“Very good job Yuuri!” She’d smiled and ruffled his hair before putting a sticker on the handmade chart. “You can make eggs without supervision now so long as you promise to be careful.”

Those days felt like they’d happened a whole lifetime ago, happened to a completely different person, and yet he now could easily dice onions and making stock from scratch when he had time. _What would Mama Katsuki say if she saw me now?_

He shook himself out of the memory just before the second omelet burned and dumped it onto the other plate before he joined Victor at the table. Taking a bite Yuuri frowned, it wasn’t bad, but he should have thought about how much he could actually eat and made his own smaller so he might have finished it.

“It’s very good.” The silver-haired actor took another bite and smiled slightly. “Do you know where I have to be today?”

Yuuri nodded, “Chris gave me a planner I could use.” It held Victor’s schedule, phone numbers of people to contact, addresses of different stations and agencies, and notes on how to deal with the actor. Unfortunately it was written in an almost illegible scrawl and Yuuri had to ask for a second planner he could copy all the information into just so he could read it quickly.

“You have a script reading for ‘Missed Connections’ from two to four, and you’re appearing live on some talk show called ‘That’s What They Say’ at eight.” It wasn’t a lot but it was enough to keep Yuuri busy his first official day as Victor’s assistant, he only had one concern at the moment.

“Um, Victor?” Yuuri looked up from the planner and saw the actor had only taken a few bites of his omelet, choosing to look at social media on his phone instead. There had been something about this written down in the margins, “cannot live without his cell phone.”

“Yes?” The silver-haired man glanced up from the device for a second, but just a second causing Yuuri to sigh before snatching it out of his hand and holding it away from him. “Hey!”

“Finish your food and I’ll give it back to you.” Yuuri stared directly into Viktor’s startling blue eyes as he tried snatching the phone back. “You have a busy day ahead of you and you need energy.”

“Give me my phone back.” Victor’s voice was steely but Yuuri stood his ground, or sat it since they were both seated.

“No.” He flipped to the instructions Chris had left and pointed at the first thing written down. “I was told to make sure you eat at least two meals a day by your manager, and you can either eat at least half your omelet or not have your phone the rest of the day. I don’t have one so I’ll find it useful at least.”

“I do eat.”

“Full meals?”

“Yes?”

“Do you not like the omelet? I can make something else if it doesn’t satisfy you.” I was not going to drop the subject easily.

“It’s fine, I’m just not hungry.” Victor picked at a piece of broccoli absentmindedly.

Chris had written that he was never hungry, he had no appetite ever, and that was the reason Yuuri needed to make sure he actually did eat. The black-haired man sighed and sat up from the table, running over recipes he’d made for the picky eaters back at the group home so they got their nutrients. Placing the offending phone on the counter next to him he began digging around in the cabinets once more, pulling out ingredient after ingredient and trying to cook while also keeping an eye on Victor. Twenty minutes later I placed a plate of blueberry pancakes topped with banana and strawberry slices on the table unceremoniously.

“Eat.”

“Yuuri...” The silver-haired man quirked an eyebrow at me.

“What.” A statement, not a question.

“Did you try and make my food look like a dog?” He’d had practice making food into animals, the kids loved it. Yuuri could only hope that it hadn’t been that hard to see the basic shape created by pancakes, banana slices forming the eyes with little blueberry pupils and a strawberry serving as the nose.

“Eat. The. Food.” Yuuri glanced at his own, barely-touched omelet and sighed. It was probably cold by now. Victor took a bite of pancake and smiled. “Delicious!” At least he was eating.

“Seriously,” he muttered, bringing his plate to the microwave so he could warm it up. “It’s like looking after a child.”

-_-

“Don’t let him escape!” Yuuri heard someone shout from down the hall, they’d arrived at the studio where “That’s What They Say” was being filmed minutes ago and Victor was in the middle of having his hair styled as his assistant waited in the hallway. Turning to find the source of the voice he saw a boy around the same age as he was running towards him, gray eyes wide and black hair flying back of his tanned face.

With a single glance down he managed to see something very small and furry at his feet before it jumped into the plastic bag containing the remnants of his meager lunch. He resisted the urge to shriek, living outdoors Yuuri had seen his fair share of mice and rats but after waking up with something on his chest one morning he’d been slightly afraid of them.

The boy stopped in front of Yuuri and thrust his hand into the bag before wincing and pulling the furry thing out, grinning all the while. “Fugitive has been captured!” It wasn’t a mouse at all, but a hamster with sleek golden fur, a white belly, and chubby cheeks that were being stuffed with a leftover shred of lettuce.

“How did it get here?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound too startled.

“How rude!” The boy puffed out his tanned cheeks indignantly as he placed the hamster on his head like it was a hat. “Skittles is not an it, and I brought her with me but she snuck out of my pocket without me noticing.”

“Skittles?” Yuuri looked at the furry critter chewing happily on a strand of the boy’s black hair.

“Yup, Twix and Snickers are back at home, I couldn’t bring them all with me even though I wanted to.” He grinned once more before extending a hand. “I’m Phichit by the way, Phichit Chulanont.”

“Yuuri Katsuki,” he accepted the handshake nervously.

“That’s such a cool name! Where are you from? Do you have an instagram? I have one for the hamsters as well as myself, so the world can see all their silly antics.” Phichit spoke so fast Yuuri could barely process what he was saying.

“Eh?”

“Are you here for ‘That’s What They Say’ too? After the taping is over Guang-Hong, Leo, and I are going out to dinner with Celestino, he’s our manager. You should come too! It’s gonna be so much fun because we’ll be trying out this new Vietnamese restaurant and I’m getting hungry just thinking about it.”

“Phichit! Calm down, I think you’re scaring Yuuri.” Leo, the chef from De La Iglesia’s, stepped out from one of the dressing rooms wearing a flashy yellow suit with short sleeves over a white V-neck shirt, his hair partially pulled back into a ponytail. “We meet again.”

“Eh?” Phichit looked surprised that he wasn’t the first person Yuuri met. “You’ve already met Yuuri?”

“We met the other day, he’s Victor’s new assistant.” Leo smiled warmly. “Sorry, but he’ll have to share the stage with us tonight.” He looked at the tan boy. “You should get changed, Guang-Hong’s almost done with his makeup.”

“Got it! See you later Yuuri!” Phichit followed the brown-haired boy back to their changing room, waving goodbye as Yuuri tried to process what had just happened.

“Making friends already I see.” Victor stood behind hi as if he’d been watching the entire time.

“I guess?”

“Good, I’m happy for you.”

-_-

“Tell me, what made you three choose to name your band “On Ice?” The interviewer was a former reality TV star with wavy black hair and too-white teeth.

“Well that’s what our manager told us, if we kept coming up with things like ‘Hamster Revolution’ we would be ‘on thin ice,’ but we shortened that to just ‘On Ice’ because it sounded better.” On the TV backstage Yuuri watched as Phichit exchanged a glance with Leo and the other boy, Guang-Hong they’d called him, and the three boys smirked. The tan boy had changed into a red, vest over a yellow dress shirt, this was in addition to red jeans and yellow scarf tied around his waist to create a look that was loud without being obnoxious.

“Are they a new band?” He asked Victor as they stood on the sidelines of the stage, the show was being filmed in front of a live audience. He hadn’t changed from earlier, preferring to stay in the light gray suit that matched his hair and brought out the blue in his eyes.

“Yes, they’ve been around a little over a year, I expect they’re here promoting their new album.” Victor didn’t seem interested in talking, his face was tense and one hand kept tapping against his thigh in sync with some unheard rhythm. Yuuri had confiscated his phone again because he was paying more attention to it than the people around him, but maybe it was like a security blanket.

“Victor, are you nervous?” The actor froze, blue eyes widening for a fraction of a second before his usual façade of cheerfulness appeared.

“Me, nervous? Don’t be silly, what could I be nervous about?” Yuuri thought about the question, what was so scary about this interview to worry him like this?

“Are you afraid that guy will ask you something personal?” Yuuri had no way of knowing if there were any rumors going around about Victor, he didn’t have access to the internet, magazines, newspapers, or television. Before he got an answer, music started playing from onstage and the saw that Phichit’s band had begun performing.

“Hey, can I talk for a bit?

It’s about some stupid, hurtful habits,

But I can’t sit still anymore...

It’s just a short tale, you up for one?”

Phichit stood front and center, his fingers dancing across a cherry-red guitar as he sang into the microphone before him, his gray eyes seemed alive with some energy Yuuri had never seen before. Leo sat at the drum kit in the back, his body moving to the rhythm he created like it was a part of him, brown hair flying with the intensity he was playing. The third boy, Guang-Hong, was in front of a keyboard and smiling as though he was having the most fun he’d ever had. He wore a yellow dress shirt with a black, embroidered vest and black pants but the simplicity of his outfit along with his youthful featured worked well together.

“Well, I guess I’ll get talking.

There’s something unique,

Unusual about me.

I’ve disguised it as common,

But it’s always troubled me.”

Yuuri stood, spellbound, until the song finished and the “On Ice” members thanked the crowd before leaving the stage to applause and cheers, Phichit waving as he passed the black-haired man.

Victor’s face had gone somewhat gray, or was it the stage lights? Was there something he was hiding that could cause him that much anxiety? Yuuri didn’t blame him for not saying anything but he still felt bad about not being able help him feel better. The host, Yuuri really needed to start learning people’s names, spoke loud enough to snap him out of his thoughts.

“Our next guest for you tonight, you may know him best for his roles in ‘Of Bright Stars and Burning Hearts,’ and ‘Like a Fairytale’ but he’s here to promote his new film, ‘Kintsugi’. Please welcome Victor Nikiforov!”

The silver-haired actor strode stiffly onstage, his star persona already in place despite the anxiety he must be dealing with. Yuuri could only hope that whatever Victor feared the host asking him wouldn’t be brought up.

“So Victor, tell me about the movie, what’s the character you play like?”

Yuuri tuned out the interview, he wasn’t interested in movies at the moment, but he was interested in his employer’s face; deciphering the expressions he made and smallest movements. Victor was still too tense, his responses spoken like he was reading from a script. Was that why he didn’t like interviews? Because they were so unpredictable?

“Now, I’m sure everyone has heard the rumors by now, so let’s get an official answer to the question that’s been bothering so many of your fans.” The mask broke and Victor’s face whitened, his hands gripping the arms of his chair like they were the only thing that prevented him from flying away. At that moment Yuuri knew he had to do something, anything to prevent the actor from having to answer. Anxiety was something he was familiar with, he understood how it made people feel like screaming and crying all at once and if he had the ability to prevent others from feeling like that he’d use it.

Looking around he saw a boy manning the controls for the lights and Yuuri ran over to him, heart pounding in his ears from what he was about to do.

“Turn off the lights now.” Despite his rapid pulse and sweaty palms his voice didn’t shake when he spoke.

“Wha-”

“Turn. Off. The. Lights.”

“I can’t, I’ll get fired!” Yuuri shoved the boy aside and looked at the switches before him, they were labeled with black marker on masking tape and it took only seconds to find the ones he needed.

“Mr. Nikiforov, are you-”

With another prayer to an unknown deity he flicked the switches and the stage, no the room, was plunged into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Jumin Han is gay? Wait wrong series nevermind.
> 
> I may or may not have gotten too into writing about cooking because it is what I went to college for, I know cooking stuffs.
> 
> The song On Ice plays is [Night Tales Decieve](https://youtu.be/SqdSYCVShmU) because I decided to stick with my theme of Kagerou Project songs, here's [another cover](https://youtu.be/Vd1RG4NV9Ts) that sounds more like what a band would play but has no subtitles.
> 
> [Of Bright Stars and Burning Hearts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10450500/chapters/23069073) is by Reiya
> 
> [Like a Fairytale](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9373529/chapters/21220337) is by lucycamui
> 
> [Kintsugi](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9507638/chapters/21506681) is by witchbane
> 
> If any fic authors don't want me referencing their work just tell me.
> 
> Comments are appreciated. Talk to me at my [Tumblr](https://midnightcrowisabadname.tumblr.com/)


	6. Feeling blue in the afternoon, I'm genuinely concerned for me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You asked and I sorta delivered. It's an update but it's also a side story and it's also from Victor's point of view. 
> 
> Anyway, Victor gets his own side chapter that didn't fit in with the rest of the story, plus I had a spare chapter title. It includes talk of his past, and I think I mentioned he didn't have a super childhood. Mentions of child neglect and bad parenting are there so you can technically skip to the part where it says "What happened after he’d mistaken Lilia for a fairy" and you're good.

The boy, Yuuri Katsuki according to his wallet, hadn’t woken up since he’d passed out in the car; not while a doctor examined his condition, nor since the man had left. He’d been diagnosed with a mere cold, but he was also severely dehydrated and malnourished, which explained his emaciated form and cracked lips. The doctor had given him a shot that would take care of most of his illness, as well as an IV drip intended to give him the fluids and nutrients he needed so his body could fight off whatever the shot didn’t kill.

His face was so pale it nearly blended into the white sheets of the bed in this hotel Victor had hidden them in, except for his cheeks which were bright red with fever. His temperature had gone down somewhat but his skin was still warm to the touch and his forehead shone with sweat, black hair plastered to his face in an awkward contrast of black and white.

“-orry.” He turned to look at the boy, but he still hadn’t woken up. Was he talking in his sleep?

“I’m sorry.”

Victor stood from the armchair he’d been seated in for what felt like a day and approached the bed, but there was no response from Yuuri. He was about to sit back down when a warm hand grasped his wrist, and turning back he saw watery brown eyes staring at him, the black-haired boy’s lips were trembling and his cheeks were so red it was like the blush had been painted on.

“Don’t go.” It would have been so easy to pry his hand off and walk away, with how sick Yuuri was his grip was barely a challenge. It seemed wrong though, wrong to walk away from this boy who had nothing and was only asking for someone to stay with him. The actor sat down on the edge of the bed and placed his palm on the boy’s forehead, it was still too hot, maybe he should put a wet towel on it to cool it down? What had the doctor said?

He started to rise so he could run to the bathroom for a towel when the hand gripped his wrist again. “Please don’t leave me.” Victor’s heart nearly broke at the sight, but he pulled out of Yuuri’s grip and returned with the damp washcloth, wiping the sweat off the black-haired boy’s face before placing it on his forehead.

“How do you feel?” He asked, hoping his tone of voice would be soothing.

“Hurts.” The word came out more like a grunt but at least he’d gotten an answer.

“Are you thirsty? Can I get you anything?” There was a pause before Yuuri shook his head slightly, wincing at the movement.

“Stay with me.” He asked again, but at least he no longer looked like he was about to cry.

“I won’t go anywhere.”

Victor wasn’t sure why the boy had followed him exactly, he’d seen Yuuri trailing behind as he walked, trying to stay hidden but failing just because he was used to paparazzi tailing him. While being questioned there had been mention of a wallet, had this kid- no not a kid if he was twenty, had this young man really been so stupid as to try and rob a celebrity? Or had it really all been a mistake and his disguise had worked too well?

Was it really possible for someone only four years younger than he was to be in such a desperate state that he’d need to pick pockets in order to survive? He knew the answer right away, it was plain as day that Yuuri hadn’t had a full meal in days, weeks maybe; plus the doctor had told Victor just how poor his health was.

A google search on his phone told him somewhat about the black-haired man lying unconscious next to him, but not much. The name Yuuri Katsuki brought him to the homepage for a group home run by a couple with the same last name, and several pictures confirmed this was where Yuuri must have grown up. There was no specific data to be found on the man himself, just the pictures along with an article mentioning a self-portrait that had gotten into an art show, but it was enough to tug on his heartstrings.

So, he hadn’t grown up with his real parents either? Had they passed away or just put their son up for adoption after he’d been born? Had they been deemed unworthy of raising a child too? The memories hadn’t faded over time despite what Yakov and Lilia had told him, what therapists insisted would happen, and maybe they never would.

-

Victor didn’t remember his parents much, to be honest he didn’t remember his father at all and the only thing he’d heard about the man was that he’d left before his son had even been born. When he tried to remember his mother there were two versions of her, the mother that ruffled his hair and made him laugh and the mother that pretended he didn’t exist and ignored him when he tried to talk to her. He was too young to understand the mood swings, too young to really take care of himself but he tried to do so anyway, his meals mostly consisting of fruit and pop-tarts when his mother had remembered to buy groceries.

He was born Viktor Nikiforov, and there were three rules he’d had to follow: don’t go outside, don’t touch the stove, and don’t talk to strangers; it wasn’t until years later that he realized most families only had the second rule. The small apartment was so gray, the walls and floor, the piles of laundry, the unwashed dishes in the sink, it seemed like the world was colorless.

Nothing was interesting anymore, Viktor’s life was merely seeing to his needs and sleeping to pass the time, making up stories to entertain himself until his eyes fell shut. Color never entered his world until someone, a neighbor who must have heard there was a young child in the apartment most likely, shoved a picture book through the mail slot of the front door and changed his life.

The book was called Cinderella, the large pages depicting a grand castle, a garden, a magic fairy who helped the crying girl escape her miserable life. He hid the book under his pillow, hopeful for the first time in what felt like years that things would get better. Would his fairy come for him so he could see the world outside this apartment? The only view of what was out there came from a single window that stared out onto a brick wall, occasionally flowers bloomed on the vines clinging to the stone or snow drifted past, but there was nothing else. Viktor wanted to have his rags turn into fancy clothes, be whisked away into a carriage, and go to a ball, but more than that he wanted to meet someone and fall in love.

Another book arrived the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that; stories of princes and princesses, of magic, of true love. While he had the apartment to himself he pretended to be the girl trapped in her tower, then the handsome prince who defeated the evil witch, another day he was the princess who’d bitten a poisoned apple only to be woken by a kiss. Gone were the days of staring at a wall and making up stories of what the world outside was like, he’d rather escape into a land of make-believe where happy endings were the only ones.

He’d been in the middle of acting out a mermaid in love with a prince when the door swung open to see his mother in one of her bad moods again, hours before she normally got home. She looked at the books strewn about and scowled, picking one up and flipping through it before stopping on a picture of the ugly stepmother and her daughters tormenting poor Cinderella.

“Where did you get these?” Her voice was low as she stared at Viktor while he tried hiding behind his long hair, pulling it in front of his face as though if he couldn’t see her then she couldn’t see him.

“They just fell in!” He whimpered, wishing for his fairy to appear and save him. “They came in through the slot!”

“Someone was giving you books? What have I said about talking to strangers?”

“I- I didn’t talk to anyone!”

“Someone thinks they have the right to tell me I’m a bad parent? How dare they question me?” She grasped a corner of the page with the stepmother and ripped it out of the book before tearing another one out. Pages littered the floor until the book was merely a cover, then she began to do the same with the other books until they were all destroyed.

“No! Please don’t!” It was like his heart was being ripped out with each pretty picture that floated to the ground, the princesses and princes staring up at him from their happy endings as though mocking him.

“Are you questioning me too?” She dropped the last book and stormed over to her son, eyes sharp with rage.

A knock sounded on the door but it was more like a bang, like someone ramming their fist into the wood. “Mrs. Nikiforov! Mrs. Nikiforov open the door!” A man’s voice rang out in between thumps.

Viktor’s mother turned her head towards the noise but didn’t move otherwise.

“Mrs. Nikiforov, we heard yelling, please open the door!” This time it was a woman’s voice, and before Viktor realized what his feet were doing he’d run to the door and tugged it open, his mother hadn’t locked it. The figures in the hallway were nothing more than shapes illuminated by the lone bulb above, the sudden brightness making them appear to be glowing.

“My fairy!” He ran out of the hallway and wrapped his arms around the taller figure, looking up to see a woman with sharp features, her black hair pulled back into a bun. “You came to save me just like in the books!”

-_-

What happened after he’d mistaken Lilia for a fairy Viktor didn’t remember, so much had happened at once, screaming from everyone as he’d cowered and wished he could run. He remembered the result though, and he had been saved from his mother who’d been deemed unable to care for him; instead he’d been taken in by Yakov and Lilia, the couple that lived across the hall.

It wasn’t at all like the fairytales though, he had nightmares of being in the gray apartment once again, trapped by his mother and begging for help that never came. He saw a man once a week and told him about his life, about the fears he had and how he felt upon looking at squiggles on a piece of paper. When it was brought up that moving to a different complex might help the nightmares go away Yakov and Lilia had obliged, and having some distance between Viktor and the place he’d been trapped for years made life easier.

Eventually Victor had recovered to the point where he was allowed to go to school and interact with children his own age. While he’d been taught to read in the years before his mother’s mood had worsened he didn’t know how to even write his name. The nice lady at school held his hand as he gripped a large crayon, showing him how to form the letters, and once he’d learned he wrote it over and over. “Viktor Nikiforov. Viktor Nikiforov,” he knew his name but hardly anything else about himself. Just who was Viktor Nikiforov?

When Yakov found out about how he’d spent days pretending to be the characters from his book he introduced Victor to plays, taking him to a stage performance of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” one day when the two of them were free. After the show had concluded the boy had been entranced, talking excitedly about the fairies before asking if he could be a fairy too.

“They weren’t real fairies Viktor, they were actors, pretending like you did. Those people onstage were acting out the characters so they could bring the story to life for you, just like you used to do.”

Viktor’s eyes lit up, his mouth stretched in a wide grin. “Can I be an actor too? I want to be a princess again! I want to be a princess, and a prince, and a fairy...” He trailed off as if lost in thought and Yakov smiled.

“You can be anything, and the most important thing as an actor is to be faithful to the character. You didn’t believe for a second that those people weren’t fairies, right?”

“Nope!”

“That’s because they knew how to move and speak as fairies, how to become their character. Do you think you can do that?”

“I wanna try! I wanna act!” Viktor had been so excited to become someone other than himself, to immerse himself in the life of someone else and portray their thoughts and feelings. Yakov owned an agency and allowed the boy to take acting lessons when he turned eight, which were absorbed quickly and eagerly; he took notes on body language and facial expressions and practiced in front of a mirror. At nine he starred in a movie, taking the suggestion to change the spelling of his name, with a small, non-speaking role but that had been the start of his new life as Victor Nikiforov.

As an actor he could be anyone, and by not being Viktor Nikiforov he was able to find out just who he was, what he liked and didn’t like, things he’d never gotten the chance to consider before. The small, colorless apartment was locked away in a corner of his mind, the lonely little boy he’d been was gone too. The only thing that remained of his past life was his love for fairytales, his desire to find a true love like the princes and princesses did in the books, even after Yakov and Lilia divorced. He wanted to believe that his story would end happily ever after and so he put all his effort into acting, into doing what he loved; and after years of struggling to appear in anything he got lucky.

The audition for “The Lilac Fairy” was the hardest he’d ever done, and not even the director expected to choose a fourteen-year-old boy as the lead in their movie, until they met him. Victor was tall for his age even as a teenager, his silver hair coming past his shoulders, his frame willowy; the perfect fairy according to the reviews. However it was his acting that truly propelled him to stardom, his portrayal of the lonely boy who granted miracles and asked for nothing in return captured many hearts and he received multiple offers for roles after that.

He’d played the fairy he’d always dreamed of being, but just like in the story he felt alone, separated from others who only saw him as an actor and not a person. He was no longer Viktor Nikiforov: the scared boy, he was Victor Nikiforov: celebrity. People took photos of him wherever he went and despite the crowds that always surrounded him nobody actually took the time to get to know him. It wasn’t until he met Chris that he found people he could call friends, and now?

Victor stared at Yuuri once more, the boy who forced the memories of his childhood to come back, the boy who reminded him of how he’d used to be. It hadn’t been a fairy who’d saved him back then, but a human, and maybe it would take a human to save this boy too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blaaaargh. Tired author is tired. 
> 
> Sorry if this wasn't what you wanted/expected for an update but I wanted to have drug-addled Yuuri and Victor's backstory somewhere and it didn't really fit in the normal story. Also sorry if it was depressing, it just... happened that way. 
> 
> Also, yes, Victor changed his name to Victor both because it was a more common spelling and also to separate himself from his past. Badum tssh.
> 
> I see Victor's mom as definitely having some mental-health issues, that along with being a single mother who was already struggling to take care of herself led to her being a bad parent. 
> 
> Victor is a romantic because of all those fairytales, he's just waiting for his true love. Twu wove is wat bwings us tofever today. Princess Bride is his favorite movie by far.
> 
> Now to complete the next chapter for my self-imposed deadline... Message me at my [Tumblr](https://midnightcrowisabadname.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Comments are appreciated as always.


	7. Your eyes get watery. "I'm sure it's no use for a weakling like me"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! The cliffhanger is resolved! What was Victor hiding? Was it that big a deal? Is the answer to life, the universe, and everything 42? Should I wrap this up so you can read it already?
> 
> Alright, here's the chapter. As always it's unbeta'd but I'd like a beta or someone to talk to about this story because it'd be nice to bounce ideas off of someone other than my dog. She's adorable, but she also has no idea what she's talking about. I also wrote the first part of this on Halloween, sitting in a bookstore dressed as Yuuri because Halloween.

“I’m not going to apologize for what I did.” Yuuri stared at the host, producer, and Victor as they stared at him in return once the lights had been restored. Phichit and his band were performing again, after the assistant had dragged his employer off stage amidst the confusion that followed his actions, the phone he’d confiscated acting as a flashlight.

“You nearly wrecked the show!” If Yuuri had wanted to learn the host’s name at one point that interest had abandoned him. “You had no right to disrupt things the way you did, I was just doing my job!”

He stared at the host, his watery eyes and too-white teeth really made him look silly and Yuuri had to resist the urge to laugh. “You were just ‘doing your job,’ you say? Then you’ll understand me when I say I was just doing my job to ensure Mr. Nikiforov’s safety,” he glanced at the producer from the corner of his eye. “Is it customary to harass your guests though? It was plain to see Mr. Nikiforov was very uncomfortable by your questions and if you wanted to ensure he, or any of his acquaintances appeared on this show again I’d think you would want to avoid that behavior.”

The producer, a balding, middle-aged man, turned bright red and stuttered. “He agreed to an interview, we have the right as reporters to get answers.”

“You may have the right to freedom of speech, but it comes with an understanding that your actions will have consequences and you should be prepared to deal with whatever these consequences are. Be happy I only shut off the lights, I could have spilled coffee on the controls and you’d have had to end the show early.” Yuuri had been the victim of harsh words so many times, insults that felt like a slap to the face, but while he would take the verbal barbs he wouldn’t let anyone criticize Victor. “Are you ready to go?” The black-haired man asked the actor before walking back towards the door.

“I just have to grab my bag, I left it in the changing room.” The silver-haired man followed behind his assistant, his face less pale but his movements were still tense. Once we were alone in the hallway Yuuri turned to look at him over one shoulder, not stopping in case someone came after us.

“Are you okay?”

Victor’s face froze in an awkward smile. “Huh?”

“Are you alright? You look pretty rattled, do you feel sick?” Anxiety and Yuuri were old friends, and he was familiar with the headaches and nausea that accompanied stressful situations. He’d packed medicine for both in the first aid kit he’d then shoved into a messenger bag, just in case either of them needed them.

Victor didn’t answer until they were in the car, the assistant had used his phone to call the driver so he could pick them up and take them back to the apartment. Yuuri couldn’t tell if he’d been waiting for them to have some privacy or he’d needed to think about what to say. His expression was serious, blue eyes distant as he stared out the window as the buildings passed by us in neon blurs, lips pursed in a tight line.

“Look, I know we barely know each other, but if I’m going to be your assistant I think we should be able to trust each other somewhat. I swear, I have nothing to gain by spreading rumors about you, plus you already know enough about me to make my miserable life a living hell.” Yuuri tried to smile reassuringly but he didn’t think it came out right. “Please, I can’t help you until you tell me what’s wrong.”

There was an awkward silence where Victor refused to meet the other’s gaze and Yuuri wondered if he’d angered the silver-haired man by acting without thinking. Maybe he’d misinterpreted the situation and wrecked the show for no reason, maybe Victor was regretting not leaving Yuuri in that alley when they’d first met.

“Forget I said anything, I was out of line.”

“No, it’s fine...” The Victor sitting across from him was so unlike the person who appeared on TV and in movies, his expression so tense Yuuri feared being yelled at. “It’s stupid to be worried about something that will be leaked no matter what.”

He took a deep breath before speaking in a low voice. “I’m gay.”

Yuuri stared at Viktor for several seconds before a snort escaped his lips, he had to work hard to avoid laughing outright.

“Hey!” Victor’s blue eyes were hard as he glared at the black-haired man. “It’s not funny!”

He managed to calm down enough to respond. “It’s a bit funny, I was expecting something like you were dying, or you’d killed someone. I don’t care if you like guys or girls; besides, I’m pretty sure I’m bi.”

“It’s a big deal to me,” he stared down at his shoes in embarrassment. “Once the magazines and talk shows find out they’ll follow me around for a month trying to get information. It won’t necessarily be a scandal but it will still be enough to make headlines, rumors about my sexuality are becoming more and more popular because I’ve never dated anyone, people will find out eventually.”

“If you’re worried about your words getting twisted around shouldn’t you be the one to tell people? It will be harder to lie about something if there’s clear proof contradicting it, plus you can write down what you want to say ahead of time so you don’t ramble or say unnecessary things.”

“I- I’m not sure.” In the dim light of the car at night, only illuminated by passing streetlights, Victor looked more human than Yuuri had ever seen him. The silver bangs that covered one eye cast the rest of his face into shadow, his pale hands hidden inside his coat sleeves. It was like he was staring at a child that had been caught telling a lie and didn’t know how to explain just why they’d done it. “I’m not really sure what I am.”

The assistant bit his lip thoughtfully, unsure of how to comfort the fragile man before him. “When I was twelve I had a crush on one of the other kids at the home, her name was Yuuko and she was my best friend despite being a few years older than me.” The actor’s eyes darted up towards Yuuri’s face but this time it was him avoiding meeting the other’s gaze. “I never told her I liked her, I was too afraid of wrecking our friendship if she didn’t feel the same way, and years later she started dating my other friend. I think they’re engaged now, the owner told me in a phone call the last time I talked to them.”

“Yuuri-” Victor tried to speak but he was silenced with a single look.

“I’m not sure what would have happened if I’d confessed, and to be honest I think the crush was more out of admiration than anything else, but I do regret not telling her when I had the chance,” He took a deep breath and continued. “My point is: your heart likes who it likes and there’s not much you can do to control these things. The most important thing is accepting who you are because if you don’t like yourself how can you expect others to like you?”

The words burned his throat as Yuuri realized just what he was saying, he had to be the biggest hypocrite there was by giving others this advice while refusing to do the same for himself. Then again, Victor was a celebrity and I was merely a human, it’s not the same thing.

“What would you do?”

“Eh?”

The actor stared at Yuuri, blue eyes wide in apparent interest. “What would you do if you were me?”

He froze, his mouth in a weird half-smile as his mind raced, he had not been expecting this question. “Er, well... What do you want to do? Do you want to hide all your life and not be able to love anyone?”

Victor’s eyes turned sad and he returned his gaze to the floor. “I’m not sure I can love anyone regardless of what my heart says. That’s the problem with being famous, the world has an opinion on everything you do.”

-_-

The next few days blurred together, each one a mishmash of forcing Victor to eat at least two meals, running from shoots to rehearsals and studios to temporary sets constructed in blocked off areas. Most of the focus was on Missed Connections and they’d moved on from script readings to blocking out scenes and costume fittings. The plan was to shoot what they could in the studios but for most of the other scenes the cast and crew would go to Russia, since that was where the show was supposed to take place.

“Have you ever left the country Yuuri?” Victor sat across from him at a small wooden table in the studio cafeteria, picking at a salad the assistant could tell he had no interest in eating.

“No, I’ve barely left Sterling since I moved here, and I didn’t really travel much before then.” Yuuri took a bite of his sandwich and offered the other half to the actor. “Please eat something, Chris will get mad at both of us if he hears you skipped breakfast and lunch.”

“I’m fine,” there was a flash of white teeth.

The assistant rolled his eyes but left the sandwich where it was, wondering if there was a way to convince Victor to actually finish his food. “If you eat the sandwich or half your salad I’ll let you take the rest of the day off.” There technically wasn’t anything scheduled in the afternoon so he was free the rest of the day to begin with, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Really?” Victor’s blue eyes lit up with excitement at the prospect of an evening with no obligations.

“You need to eat something, so yes.” Yuuri opened his planner and scanned through tomorrow’s agenda: more work on Missed Connections and an appearance as a guest judge for some holiday cooking show. His eyes flicked to the television in one corner of the room where a news show was doing a report on some disease that had appeared within the past few years, he couldn’t remember the name for it but those who had it were nicknamed as being “lovesick”. The report wasn’t anything new so he turned back to see Victor struggling to eat more of his salad, although it was better described as him picking out the tomatoes, chicken, and other tasty bits and leaving the lettuce behind.

“Do you want my sandwich?” He asked, holding out the other half once more. Yuuri shouldn’t have been the one telling Victor to eat when he was barely able to consume more than a few bites of anything before feeling sick, most likely a combination of stress and his body being unable to process food correctly.

Before the actor could respond his phone started to ring and he was forced to answer it, having a brief conversation in Russian before hanging up and turning back to Yuuri. “I’m to tell you to return to headquarters,” The assistant mentally rolled his eyes at the nickname for Yakov’s company, CFV Studios. “I’ll go back to the apartment once filming is over.”

Yuuri nodded, they were such vague instructions, was he going to be fired for what he did back at the talk show? It had been barely over a week since he’d been started this job and he was already going to lose it.

Victor must have guessed at his assistant’s thoughts because he spoke up then. “It’s nothing bad, Yakov just wants to meet you so the two of you can talk. He’s a good guy I swear, so don’t worry too much.”

-_-

Yakov Feltsman, at first glance, looked like a mobster from old movies to Yuuri. He had a wide, flabby face, a large bald spot on the center of his head surrounded by long, gray hair, and piercing eyes that stared out from under bushy brows. It was no wonder that the industry considered him someone to be feared, if his role as the president of one of the largest studios in the country didn’t do the job his appearance certainly would.

“You’re Yuuri Katsuki?” His voice was like gravel and he stumbled over the syllables in Yuuri’s last name, but the assistant didn’t have the courage to correct him.

“Y-yes sir.” He stammered out a response and bowed before the large mahogany desk Yakov was seated behind. “It’s an honor to meet you Mr. Feltsman.”

The man snorted. “At least Vitya picked one with manners, goodness knows that boy could use some.” Yuuri stood silently, he hadn’t been asked a question and he didn’t dare speak out of turn. “Tell me about yourself Yuuri, what’s your favorite movie?”

While Yuuri had not been expecting that question he realized that considering who this man was it shouldn’t have been an unusual thing for him to ask. His brain felt like mush though, he couldn’t remember any names of movies since he hadn’t actually watched a movie in years, but he tried to remember something he’d liked while growing up.

“The Lilac Fairy,” his lips moved seemingly of their own accord. “But I wish it had a different ending.”

Yakov quirked an eyebrow at him. “Oh? Why do you say that?”

“Well, I liked the rest of the movie because I connected with the fairy himself, sacrificing his own happiness for the sake of others, but I felt it was wrong for nobody to go back and even thank the fairy for his help. I wish the fairy had had a friend so they weren’t so lonely, someone to make everything he’d done worth it.”

The man stared at me for several seconds before sighing. “Vitya said the same thing once it came out, you know that?”

“Victor did?”

“Yes, it took a lot out of him to make that movie, especially since it was his debut film and he was only fourteen.”

Yuuri’s mind went blank, realization hitting him that the reason why the fairy seemed so familiar was... “Wait, Victor was the Lilac Fairy?”

Silence, then Yakov was laughing, not at Yuuri but just because the situation was outrageous. “You only realized that now?”

He felt his cheeks redden, humiliated by his own stupidity. “I was ten when it came out, and I haven’t seen it in a while; but the story itself was creative and Victor’s performance was very memorable.” It was strange, picturing the man who Yuuri now had to force to eat a salad portraying the delicate fairy he’d admired as a child. He’d been conscious of the man’s other roles time went by, as he became a household name the other kids in the group home became interested in his work. Even so, it had never connected that the lonely fairy and Victor Nikiforov were the same person.

“It was a small movie and he’d just started out as an actor, I think the only people who watch The Lilac Fairy anymore are obsessed fans of Victor’s or fans of the director.” Yakov grinned, his whole demeanor changing from a gruff old man to what seemed like a proud grandparent. “But it started Vitya on his path to becoming a famous actor, that kid was so excited when he got the part.”

“How long have you known Victor? You talk about him a bit like he’s your son.”

The man frowned again, as if he were deep in thought. “Vitya is my son in a way, I took him in when he was six and helped him become an actor, and because I care about him I want to know just what your intentions are towards him.”

“I...” Yuuri struggled for words once again, words to prove to this man that he harbored no ill intent towards the actor. “Victor helped me by getting me this job and I intend to pay him back by fulfilling my duties as his assistant to the best of my abilities, if my actions the other day offended him at all I will do anything I can to fix things.”

“You mean at that talk show? From what he told me you didn’t offend him at all, quite the opposite. I just wanted to see you for myself so I could get an idea of who’s looking after him right now, because despite being 24 he still needs a caretaker.”

“He won’t eat, I’m so close to just shoving food in his mouth so he doesn’t starve to death.” Yuuri’s tone was exasperated but he could see Yakov was laughing again.

“Try dealing with an even less mature Vitya, he kept trying to run away when he needed a shower.” He opened a drawer and pulled out a small framed photo before handing it to me. The picture was of Victor, that much was obvious from the silver hair, blue eyes, and distinctive smile; but he couldn’t have been more than eight. His hair was long, falling past his shoulders, his face rounder and eyes large as he stared at a butterfly hovering above him; the child unaware of how famous he would become.

“Now Yuuri,” Yakov’s face was serious once more. “Vitya may seem strong and confident now, but he had a hard childhood before I took him in and if he seems overly affectionate or in need of approval there’s a reason behind it. You understand what that’s like, don’t you?”

“What happened to him?”

“That’s Vitya’s story to tell, if he wants to talk about it he will.”

-_-

The apartment was quiet when Yuuri returned, Victor had fallen asleep on the couch, a book lay on the floor like it had fallen out of his hand and Makkachin was curled up beside him. In sleep he looked younger, the masks he wore when he was awake had been discarded and only the human remained behind, how many people saw him like this?

Yuuri decided to let the man sleep, he must have been tired enough to need it, in favor of using the computer to look up something to do that night; even though it was a Monday it seemed like Sterling never rested. He toyed with the idea of going out but he was feeling somewhat drowsy as well and doing absolutely nothing had started to sound amazing. They would be leaving for Russia in two weeks anyway, the assistant doubted we’d have much time to relax once we were there.

When Victor finally woke up an hour later it was to find Yuuri placing the last of the cardboard takeout containers on the table before grabbing plates for both of them. “I thought we could take it easy tonight, watch something funny and eat Chinese food; sound good to you?”

The actor stared blearily at Yuuri before smiling. “That sounds wonderful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this wasn't as good as other ones, work's been really hard because one of the other stores for hipster green apron coffee chain is closed for remodeling so we're super busy and it's exhausting.
> 
> Additional sorry for the thing Victor not wanting to tell people was just that he's gay. He thought it was a big deal because the media would go crazy and he'd be pestered by paparazzi everywhere he went until people stopped caring.
> 
> The talk with Yakov is why I posted Victor's backstory in that side chapter, so you guys can understand both Victor and Yakov better as characters.
> 
> Also, remember when I started this story I mentioned that it came into play from three ideas, well that third thing that has been a secret until now was mentioned briefly in this chapter.
> 
> I decided to swap out the show being filmed from Kintsugi to my own random idea I thought up right now because I'm going to reference the filming a good bit and it makes mores sense to just have it be my stuff talked about so I don't mess any details up. Base idea is Victor plays a hacker for some underground organization, if I were to make it into another fic, which I shouldn't, Yuuri would be a mechanic or something.
> 
> If you have questions or just wanna talk to me go to my [Tumblr](https://midnightcrowisabadname.tumblr.com/)where you can also find a picture of me dressed as Yuuri in a pet store. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, comments, bookmarks, and kudos are always appreciated.


	8. But I believe in you because you're you! So why not look at what's ahead?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this one is short, I've had a headache for several days now and it made it a bit hard to focus.

“Feed goes live in five seconds,” Victor sat at an empty desk, fingers moving in thin air as though he were either playing an invisible piano or typing on an equally invisible keyboard. Considering his character was a hacker in this sci-fi movie it was most likely the latter, special effects would be added later to create the holographic computer he used.

The set being used today was impressive, a fake train had been crafted inside one of the rooms except it looked closer to a bullet train than a normal locomotive, the outside smooth and built for speed. The interior of the car being used right now belonged to Oliver, Victor’s character, and served as his base of operations for all his hacker/mission control/techno-wizard needs. One end of the wall had its walls covered in monitors, all of them black at the moment but their screens would be edited to show different camera angles of the hotel the group’s mission supposedly took place in. Lying on the floor at the other end was a mattress upon which a blanket and pillow seemed to have been dumped onto it, a battered paperback book half-hidden by them.

From what Yuuri had picked up in the script readings and from overhearing conversations Missed Connections was about a group of vigilantes trying to make the future better. They were a small group composed of misfits with various talents who played Robin Hood by taking from the wealthy to help the poor, but in a science-fiction setting. There was also some weird romance between the hacker and the mechanic which seemed forced in to make girls watch it, because apparently it wasn’t interesting enough to them already.

The character of Oliver was interesting to look at, he still looked like Victor, but his expressions, his mannerisms and body language, they belonged to someone Yuuri didn’t know. Georgi and Mila had worked their magic on him again, contouring his cheekbones and nose so his face appeared more angular, his features sharper than they normally were. Extensions had been added to his hair so it was long enough to pull most of it back into a ponytail, leaving his bangs to cover one eye like they normally did. His clothes were simple, a green shirt with a black jacket and pants, but the material they were made from was weird; it looked like a solid color from a distance but it was composed of thousands of tiny triangles in multiple shades of the same hue.

The scene was almost over, and hopefully it wouldn’t need another retake because someone fumbled their lines again; it was obvious that some of the crew members and actors were getting tired. They’d started filming nearly six hours ago and there had been hardly any breaks, everyone was desperate to get as much done before they left for Russia so there wouldn’t be much to shoot when they got back. Victor had insisted he would try to get as many scenes involving Oliver filmed that day, refusing to eat more than a granola bar that he wolfed down when he’d been caught coming off the set once time. The man had to be exhausted, but neither he nor any of the other actors had complained once and Yuuri was impressed by their professionalism.

“That’s a wrap folks! We’re done for today, go get changed and get some rest, there’s more to do!” The director, the assistant thought his name was Andrew, yelled into a microphone and people began to disperse from the set. The actors walked back to the dressing room to take their makeup and costumes off and the crew members gathering up the equipment and props before putting them away. Yuuri pulled a fresh towel and a bottle of water out of his messenger bag before approaching his employer.

“Good work today!” Yuuri chirped and Victor offered up a weak smile, accepting the towel and water gratefully before wiping the sweat from his face and draining the bottle. He’d already taken off the chunky headset his character wore as well as the fake glasses, his body language had returned to normal, Oliver’s mask was gone.

“Thanks Yuuri,” he said the name so casually it was unnerving, as though they’d known each other for ages. “Today was a bit draining.”

“Do you need anything? Should I make something special for dinner tonight?” He probably needed protein and carbohydrates since he’d barely eaten since breakfast, something to replace the calories he’d burned off since filming had begun. Yuuri could make a chicken stir-fry pretty fast but would Victor feel too tired to eat? Maybe a smoothie with protein powder would be better? Then there was the need to make sure he kept drinking plenty of water, all that moving around with the hot stage lights shining on him meant he’d been sweating a lot and staying hydrated was vital to ensuring he’d be able to act tomorrow.

He’d been so lost in his thoughts that Yuuri hadn’t actually paid attention to Victor’s response, it wasn’t until a large hand waved back in forth in front of his face that he snapped out of the daze.

“Oh good, you’re back.” The silver-haired actor smiled again and Yuuri felt a pang of guilt in his chest, here was Victor exhausted after a long day of work and he still bothered to worry about his assistant.

“Ah, sorry!” Yuuri felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. “I was focusing on what you’d need to in order to be ready for tomorrow.”

Victor laughed, whether it was due to the blush or the words Yuuri wasn’t sure. “I was trying to tell you that Chris wants to meet us for dinner tonight, I’m impressed by your dedication though.”

“Chris wants to see us?” His trial period as Victor’s assistant hadn’t ended yet, there was a little over a week left, but Yuuri wondered if he’d done such a poor job already that they didn’t need him to finish before firing him.  
“Yeah, I think it’s about the Russia trip, finishing stuff up for your passport or something like that.” They started off towards the changing room and Yuuri dug another bottle of water out of his bag for Yuuri to drink.

“Right, I’ll need one of those.” Being someone who’d never traveled Yuuri didn’t know what he’d need to bring when traveling to another country for several weeks. If was honest with himself the idea of being inside a large metal box in the air for a long period of time wasn’t entirely appealing. He hoped he’d be able to sleep for most of the flight.

“He should be able to help you figure out what you’ll do, and he is coming with us so that should be fun. Russia has the best liquor so I guarantee that if you don’t have a good time you’ll at least have some interesting stories to tell.” Victor paused before the changing room door, waving before leaving Yuuri alone in the hallway to process what he’d just said.

-_-

The building the black Maserati stopped in front of was one he’d heard about in passing, from the name The Crow Club one might expect to find a nightclub or gambling den but it was neither. It was a high class restaurant with a gaming room complete with card and pool tables for customers to use as well as a bar. It combined quality food with the thrills of a casino and although no money was wagered in any of the games in favor of tokens one could exchange for a drink it still made for a good way to spend an evening. However, a place like this, where the floor was made of marble and chandeliers hung in every room, was not somewhere a person like Yuuri ever dreamed of setting foot into.

Chris had reserved the room people used for parties and business meetings, probably so they could have privacy away from the eyes of the public, and they climbed up a grand spiral staircase made of dark wood and adorned with a crimson carpet. The upper floor was lit with small wall lamps rather than the grand chandeliers, oil paintings of birds and landscapes on the walls and when Victor opened the door-

“Happy Birthday Yuuri!” He was greeted by a crescendo of voices upon entering the room, several people had party poppers and bits of confetti flew into his face as he took in the sight before he. Instead of just Chris the tables were all occupied, the closest one had Phichit and the other members of On Ice and Yuri Plisetsky sulked in a corner next to a taller boy with black hair the assistant didn’t recognize. There were some people Yuuri knew of from seeing them in shows or movies, JJ Leroy, Sara and Michele Crispino, and Emil Nikola sat at a table with Georgi and Mila and I saw the redhead throw back her head in laughter from something Sara said.

There was one table left with any empty seats and Chris shepherded Victor and Yuuri over to the chairs, the assistant’s feet moving despite the shock he was struggling to control. His brain seemed unable to process what he was seeing, and a part of him wondered if he’d fallen asleep in the car? He pinched his thigh and winced at the pain, definitely not dreaming then.

“Well, were you surprised?” Phichit grinned from next to Yuuri as he sat down, his body practically vibrating with enthusiasm.

“Yeah, I’d forgotten today was my birthday.” His face felt warm as I admitted the truth, how he’d gotten so caught up in work that it hadn’t registered to him that he had a birthday.

“What? That’s so sad! Is Victor keeping you that busy?”

Yuuri waved his hands dismissively. “No! I mean, I never really celebrated it in the past few years because I lived by myself.”

“What about while growing up? Didn’t your parents throw a party or something?” Phichit frowned at Yuuri, clearly saddened by his lack of interest in his own birthday.

“Well, we had a small thing at the house but...” Nobody but Chris, Victor and Yuri knew about his past, about the group home and why parties just weren’t a thing that happened. “I was never interested in making a fuss about my birthday, it didn’t seem important.”

“That’s so sad!” Yuuri was pulled into a tight hug that left him gasping for air. “Please tell me there was cake at least.”

“Yuuri,” Victor thrust a glass of bubbling light-orange liquid into the assistant’s hand and winked. “You’re 21 now, right? Have a drink with us.”

Upon taking a sip he coughed, causing the people around him to laugh. Yuuri didn’t know what it had been supposed to to taste like but first it was sweet, like juice, then sour and too strong. The smell reminded him of rubbing alcohol mixed with citrus cleaning spray and made him wonder why people willingly consumed something so nasty.

“I might have made it too strong for your first time drinking, I thought by making yours a mimosa it might be easier for you but maybe not.” Chris quirked a smile before handing Yuuri a glass of water, which he gratefully accepted.

“Thank you,” he looked around at Chris, Victor, and Phichit before his eyes found the silver-haired actor again. “For everything.” _For saving me from the streets, for giving me a chance at a job even if I didn’t keep it, for introducing me to new people and experiences I’d never have the chance to see otherwise._ It had been around three weeks since everything had changed and he refused to grow complacent or even allow himself to adjust to how things were, the last thing Yuuri wanted to happen was for the actor to regret helping him.

Victor’s eyes softened slightly, as if he’d heard the words that had been left unsaid. “You’re very welcome, it’s not every day we get to celebrate like this so let’s make the most of it.” He took a sip from his own long-stemmed glass, the liquid in this one clear, champagne probably.

“I believe in taking every chance to have fun we can; live in the moment, if you can, for right now and deal with the consequences tomorrow.” Chris finished his own glass and picked a menu up from the table, glancing it over before handing it to Yuuri. “Dinner’s on us tonight.”

An hour and two rum and cokes later he was feeling more relaxed and giddy, although he was relieved to not be as inebriated as anyone else in the room, except for Phichit and his friends who were underage. Victor’s cheeks were pink as he slouched in his chair, laughing as he tried to tell a story about one something had happened in a hotel he’d been staying in while filming a movie.

“So, there I was in nothing but a bathing suit and a towel while the fire alarm went off, we all had to run outside because of it and it was January for goodness sake.” The actor’s words were slightly slurred from alcohol but it was still easy to understand what he was saying. “Once we got inside the hotel it took hours to warm up again, and the next day there was a note posted in all the elevators, ‘no vaping in the hotel rooms’.”

A chorus of laughter followed the story and Phichit used the time where nobody was talking to get Yuuri’s attention. “We have to leave soon, we’ve got practice pretty early tomorrow, but I wanted to make sure you got our present before we left.” He handed over a small, rectangular object wrapped in red and gold paper and a gift bag before winking mischievously.

“Thank you.” He wanted to say that Phichit didn’t have to get him anything at all but it seemed rude.

“It’s nothing much since we weren’t sure what to get you but we still had fun picking stuff out.” Yuuri tore off the paper to reveal a cd for On Ice, causing Phichit to stick out his tongue as if it were a bad thing to give as a present. Yuuri had never owned a cd before, there had been some at the group home but this was the first one that was his and his alone, and it meant more to him than the band members probably realized. The bag was full of various candies, snacks, a fidget spinner, and a blind box for some show he’d never seen; Yuuri could picture the three men having fun picking everything out.

“Thanks so much, it means a lot that you’d get me stuff after meeting me once.”

“We’re friends aren’t we?” Yuuri could have hugged him if he wasn’t in a room full of people he didn’t know very well, so he settled for waving goodbye to Phichit as he and his bandmates left.

“We’ve got some presents for you too, you know.” Yuuri turned to see Chris and Victor smiling at him, which was slightly unnerving until he remembered how much the two of them had to drink.

“You really didn’t have to get me anything...” He started to say but a box was shoved in his face before he could finish the sentence, the wrapping paper on this one had dogs wearing party hats. Upon seeing what was inside he wasn’t sure I’d opened the right box, surely this was meant for someone else.

“A cell phone?”

“We knew you didn’t have one yet and it goes with our next present.” Chris handed over an envelope which Yuuri opened to find an official-looking document that read...

“Congrats on passing the trial period, you’re officially Victor’s assistant now. Let’s work hard, okay?”

“But it hasn’t been a month yet.” Yuuri felt like crying, he didn’t deserve such nice things.

“Victor told me about all you’ve done for him already, and Yakov approves of you so there wasn’t a need to wait any longer for us to make a decision.” Chris held out his hand and Yuuri reached for it tentatively, part of him still wondered if he was dreaming, but it was solid as he shook it.

“Yuuri, have another drink! There’s so much to celebrate!” Another glass was placed before he and after realizing the first sip tasted like what he was now recognizing as pure alcohol he downed it in two large gulps.

-_-

His head throbbed painfully when Yuuri woke up, his eyes opening a fraction only to close again, the sunlight slipping through the cracks in the curtains was too much to handle. He heard the soft thump of a glass being placed down on the end table and rolled over towards the noise, risking a glance at whoever had put it there.

“When you feel up to it you should drink all of the water, there’s some painkillers there too, the kind you don’t need food in your stomach to take. I don’t have anything to do today so you can focus on feeling better, Chris and I figured it would be best to plan ahead for this reason.”

“Hangovers?” His voice sounded hoarse and his throat ached.

“Especially if you’ve never had one, it’s nice to have someone help you recover, although if you think you’re going to be sick tell me so I can get you to the bathroom.”

“What happened after we started drinking?” Everything from after Phichit left and he’d gotten the job was a blur, it was too much to hope that he hadn’t made a fool of himself.

“You don’t remember?” Victor frowned, sitting down at the foot of the bed.

“Please tell me I didn’t do something stupid.”

“Is challenging Yuri P. to a dance off stupid?” Yuuri groaned and rolled back over.

“Yes. I’m pretty sure it is the definition of the word stupid.”

“Well everyone agreed that you won, and he was kind of upset about that.” The actor’s long fingers traced over the pattern on the comforter as he grinned at his assistant. There was a jingling from nearby that grew louder before a large tongue licked his nose. “Makkachin no!” The dog climbed onto the bed, choosing to lie down next to Victor and sniff her master happily.

“It’s ok.” Yuuri croaked, sitting up so he could pet her soft head.

“Did you have a good birthday?”

“The little of it I remember, yes. Back at the home, there were enough kids that made it hard to celebrate everyone’s birthday. Money was tight enough as it was, but I used to make someone’s favorite meal as a present just so they could feel special,” he smiled at the memory. “Mama and Papa Katsuki would always give me a card though, and the other kids would wish me a happy birthday, but that was it so I never grew up expecting a celebration. Yesterday was a nice change, thank you.

“Until I lived with Yakov I never celebrated either, I didn’t know people did have parties or got presents for their birthdays. I guess that’s why I like to do something special now, because we can’t change the past but we can change what we’re doing now so we look back on things later and smile.”

Victor stood up and stretched, Makkachin lifting her head at the sudden movement. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me, I plugged your phone in last night and both Chris’ and my contact info are in it, if you don’t feel like getting out of bed just call me.”

As the actor left and closed the door behind him Yuuri stared at the ceiling in amazement, not entirely sure what he’d done to deserve the new life he’d been given.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, should I write a side chapter from Victor's pov about what happened? I hope it wasn't sudden that it was Yuuri's birthday, I thought I was referencing it somewhat. 
> 
> Also, I cant drink, despite being 24, because I get a really bad headache whenever I have more than a glass of wine. Therefore I was forced to remember my beverage management classes from college about dealing with drunk people in order to write some of this chapter. I was tempted to call the restaurant Quindecim but I'd already written the description of the Crow Club and I liked it the way it was, so there's a Six of Crows reference instead of Death Parade, meh.
> 
> I'm working on plotting out Spring and Winter since it's been so long since I started writing it that I forgot what the original plot was supposed to be, I'm torn between keeping it super fluffy and actually having a story.
> 
> If you have questions or just wanna talk to me go to my [Tumblr](https://midnightcrowisabadname.tumblr.com/) where you can read about me being dumb, and a picture of my dog. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, comments, bookmarks, and kudos are always appreciated.


	9. When things are truly hopeless I'll give your heart the support it needs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short side-chapter about the birthday party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 10 will be posted tomorrow

It had been a bad idea to suggest doing shots. By midnight most people had gone home leaving behind Chris, Yurio, Otabeck, Victor, Mila, and Yuuri in the large room. Since none of them felt like leaving just yet, and it was Yuuri’s first time attending a party like this, they decided to go all out. There was a drinks menu featuring a full page of both shots and shooters and they picked out the ones that sounded the strangest or most interesting. Apocalypse now, cement mixer, mind eraser, and wolf bite were just a few of the whole tray that was brought up to them and they spent an hour or so just trying them, ordering more of the ones that were good and grimacing at the sour flavor of the pickleback.

“You are wasted right now.” Yurio’s voice was filled with disgust as he sipped from his glass of soda, he and Otabeck were the only underage people in the room.

“Why are you so mean to me all the time?” Yuuri had gotten drunk after only two shots in addition to the drinks he’d had earlier, his cheeks bright red.

“I’m not being mean, I’m pointing out a fact. You are so drunk you probably won’t even remember this tomorrow.”

“You called me ‘less than a nobody’ when we first met, but do you really think you’re better than me?”

“I already apologized for that, and technically I’m more famous than you are so...” He didn’t finish the sentence but everyone knew what he meant.

“Prove it.” The black-haired man attempted to look serious but his gaze was too unfocused for it to work, Victor had to resist laughing at the sight.

“Prove I’m better than you? How?”

“Dance off, you and me. You pick the style.”

A snort came from the teen but he was already rising to his feet, unable to resist the possibility of humiliating Yuuri even as Otabeck told him he shouldn’t. “If I win you have to be Yurio.”

“Deal.” 

“We’ll both do hip-hop dancing, Beka can you play something fun?” The boy nodded, scrolling through his phone for a song, and moments later a guitar started playing, followed by a man singing.

Victor had never heard the song before but it went from fast paced to slow, then back to fast within seconds yet both Yuris were keeping up with the change in tempo. He’d known the younger one had a background in dancing, he’d studied ballet, jazz, hip-hop, and ballroom but he his movements were boring compared to his opponent. The black-haired man moved his hips to the beat, bouncing from one foot to the other as his arms crossed over each other, went back to his sides, moving too fast to process what each move was. It was like his whole body was attuned to the music and the actor couldn’t look away.

The music ended and everyone applauded, both dancers out of breath as they returned to their seats. “Who was better?” Yurio demanded, eyes blazing.

“Let’s just say the nickname is staying.” Victor smiled at his assistant, surprised once again by what the man could do.

“What? I was way better than him!”

“Agree to disagree.”

“We should play something.” Chris’s words were slurred, his tan cheeks flushed. The four tables people had eaten at were decorated to look like the ones used in casinos, one had a tiny roulette wheel in the center, another a craps setup, blackjack and poker at the remaining two. The Crow Club made sure to offer the gambling experience to those who weren’t in the main gaming rooms and there were cards, dice, chips, and anything else one might need to play. 

“Play what?” Yuuri’s face shone slightly with sweat and he was still panting.

The manager grinned sinisterly. “I was thinking strip poker might be fun.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Mila bit her lip as she glanced at the five males surrounding her.

“We’ll end the game once someone’s down to their underwear, and let’s make it men only so nobody feels uncomfortable.” Victor looked at the others and saw Yurio’s eyes were blazing, evidently his loss in the dance-off really bothered him. On the other hand Yuuri looked like he was starting to tire, but he didn’t say any words of protest, he merely asked “what are the rules?”

“Everyone bets an article of clothing per hand and the person with the worst cards has to take whatever they bet off, other than that its basic poker, unless you guys think blackjack would be easier. With that it would be whoever has the highest number wins and whoever busts or has the lowest number has to strip.” Chris looked like he’d clearly played both games before.

“Blackjack sounds better, less to think about.” Otabeck had barely spoken to anyone but Yurio the entire night. “Who wants to be the dealer?”

“We rotate,” Victor chimed in. “Chris can start and then we pass the deck to the right after each round.”

“Once again, this seems like a bad idea.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

-

As it turned out, the dance battle was the only thing Yuuri won that night, at blackjack he was either very bad or very unlucky. With each pair of cards he was given he either busted or played it too safe, he lost almost every round and before the clock hit two am he only had his shirt left on him.

“I don’t get it.” The black-haired man slurred as he looked at everyone’s cards. “Why am I so bad at this?”

“It’s because you’ve had way too much to drink.” Yurio glanced sidelong at him, an almost pitying look; he’d had to take off his sweatshirt and shoes but nothing else.

“I think we can end, Yuuri and Victor might have the day off today but I have work to do and I should at least try to get some sleep.” Chris rose to his feet, his jacket the only thing he’d removed.

With wobbly legs Victor stood up and helped Yuuri from his chair, the young man seemed to be on the verge of falling asleep and it was probably best to get him in the car before that happened. He’d received a text from his driver that they’d arrived outside the Crow Club, but he’d have to carry his assistant down a flight of stairs in order to get to the car. The actor slung one of the man’s arms around his neck and helped him walk, one step at a time, until they were both inside the vehicle and on their way back to the apartment.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” He laughed at the sight before him, Yuuri sprawled out on one of the seats, one arm flung over his eyes as though he was already getting a hangover. 

“Yeah, but next time we play I’ll win for sure.”

“I’m sure you will.”

The black-haired man lifted his arm up and stared at Victor, his eyes unusually focused for how drunk he was. “Why did you help me?”

That was a question he hadn’t expected. “Excuse me?”

“When we first met in the alley, why did you help me? I wanted to steal your wallet but you didn’t call the police on me. Why?”  
Why? There had been several reasons but he couldn’t really put what he’d felt into words. “I told you, I’ve felt helpless and alone before and if I can I’d like to prevent others from feeling that way.”

“Chris and Yakov said you had a bad childhood, but they wouldn’t tell me what happened.” He seemed to be rambling. “You haven’t noticed yet, but sometimes I look at you and you seem sad and lonely despite being surrounded by people.”

There was no way to respond to this, no answer that would work.

“It’s like I’m watching ‘The Lilac Fairy’ again, but I want to change the ending because the fairy deserves better than to be used by others. The fairy needs a friend, someone he can talk to about anything and depend on, he deserves to be happy too. He’s helped so many people without asking for anything in return, but is that really what he wants?” A pause, Yuuri catching his breath. “What do you want?”

Another unexpected question from this man, and even though a part of Victor suspected that his assistant wouldn’t remember this conversation he had trouble speaking his mind. It would have been so easy to lie, to say he didn’t need anything because he’d already won awards and become famous, he didn’t need money or power either. What he ended up saying was different. “I want a happy ending.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song I had in mind for Yuuri and Yurio to dance to is this [Outer Science](https://youtu.be/ntgINS2Jt_A/) cover because it's been stuck in my head, I opted not to include the lyrics because... well it's a villian's song and they're dark but it's awesome to listen too. My other choice was [Flyers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UjjTMNDZi-A) aka the Death Parade opening.  
> I don't know what drunk people do... I've never been drunk before because reasons. I also have barely any knowledge of dancing, hell I only know about anime, cooking, and being a barista yet here this story is.
> 
> [I'm lonely talk to me](https://midnightcrowisabadname.tumblr.com/)


	10. Don’t give up with “might as well’s.” That’s not an option

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 100 kudos, I'm gonna cry. I thought the fandom had shrunk so much I wouldn't get this far.

“You should call them.” Victor glanced up from his phone as Yuuri finished assembling the breakfast wraps he’d made, it had sank in earlier that week that the actor preferred food that was easy to eat. “Now that you have a phone.”

“Call who?” He set the plates on the table before sitting down at it.

“The people at the group home, you must miss them right?”

Yuuri choked on his wrap and had to cough in order to clear his throat. “I... I don’t know what I’d say, how I’d explain what happened.” How did you tell the people who’d raised you that you’d been living on the streets only to be given a job by Victor Nikiforov?

“Would you prefer I talked to them?” The actor grinned at his assistant, blue eyes bright with what Yuuri could only guess was mischief.

“Do you even know the phone number?”

“It’s on the website.”

Rather than answer him Yuuri chose to eat his own wrap. He missed Mama and Papa Katsuki, he missed Yuuko and Takeshi as well as the other kids from the home. He wanted to hear their voices, to find out what they’d been up to in the two years since he’d left; he just didn’t want them to learn how he’d accomplished nothing himself. Everything that had happened to him was thanks to luck rather than his own abilities, first he’d it had been bad luck that caused him to lose his job and then good luck that led to meeting Victor.   
Sure he’d managed to officially become the actor’s assistant but it was only a matter of time before he and the others realized what Yuuri had learned long ago.

“What did you say after the talk show? Something about how we needed to trust each other? I think there was something about ‘how can you expect others to like you if you don’t like yourself’ as well.”

Yuuri had known he’d regret those words one day. “I don’t expect people to like me, that’s the difference. I know who I am and there’s nothing special about me whatsoever, why should I bother trying to be something I’m not?”

Victor put down his food, his face serious and his gaze steely as he stared into Yuuri’s eyes, it was like he had pulled on a mask. “I want to show you something.” He stood up and walked over to the coffee table, picking up the remote and picking something from the shows he’d recorded before gesturing for his assistant to come watch with him.

The screen was black, a child’s voice could be heard faintly singing as a gravel path came into view, small feet pattering along it as the camera panned up and the silhouette of a large tent appeared before either a rising or setting sun. As the tent grew larger, the camera drawing nearer to it, figures appeared out of the darkness and Yuuri recognized them; Yuri Plisetsky was there in his absurd acrobat outfit, and right by the entrance was the very man seated next to me.

“This is that show, the episode is out already?” Yuuri felt confused, it had been a little over a month since filming had taken place, didn’t these things usually take longer to appear on TV?

“Nightmare Inspectors, yes; it aired last night so I thought you might like to see your first performance.”

Since Yuuri had never seen any of Nightmare Inspectors he was unfamiliar with the main characters and the overall plot, but while filming had been going on it had been easy to grasp the concept. it was about two siblings who were paranormal investigators. The one brother seemed hotheaded as he argued about the circus, his disbelief about whether or not such a conspicuous place could really be abducting children contrary to the other’s curiosity. When the pair arrived at tent he was unsurprised to see Victor’s character there to greet them, this was the scene he’d watched being filmed after getting into his costume. He knew the lines that followed, “The greatest show on earth, it would be a shame to miss it when you had the chance to witness such a spectacle.”

The show, now that all the performances in it had been edited and special effects had been added, was stunning and he wished that it lasted longer than it did. What had been a man merely twirling sticks became a fire juggler, a girl who’d only been a few feet off the ground now walked a tightrope high above the stage, each person getting less than thirty seconds of screen time but it was enough to make an impression. Yuri was next, and since he was the ringmaster’s assistant he got a minute on screen, showing off flips and cartwheels to the cheers of the crowd, and then it was Yuuri’s turn.

With his hair slicked back, his glasses gone, and the amount of makeup that had been applied to his face it was like looking at a stranger, and even though Yuuri knew it was himself he stared at it was surreal. The man onscreen was confident as he took aim and threw the knife effortlessly, the shining silver blade plunging into the apple perched on a man’s head and knocking it to the floor. He’d expected the camera to switch to someone else but it stayed focused on the knife-thrower as he walked away, twirling another knife as though it were second-nature. Then Victor walked up to him, Yuuri hadn’t known they were still filming while they’d been talking, he’d started to juggle the knives as the next performer stepped into the spotlight.

“After Yurio you got the most screen time out of everyone in that scene, the director liked how you acted so casually with me and decided to include us talking. He thought it would add to the scene to have the ringmaster conversing with the others and you were the only one who wasn’t intimidated or annoyed, even though I complemented everyone after they’d finished.”

“So they had you interact with the other performers while you were in costume so it looked like you were scheming?” Had he said the same thing to everyone?

“Yes, but I was genuinely impressed by you. You’d been so sick you’d passed out the night before but you still agreed to fill in for Emil, and you did a really good job with so little time to prepare. Not only that but you were able to talk to me with ease despite knowing me for less than a day; half the other people there were actors I’d worked with before and they didn’t do nearly as well.”

Victor paused the show and turned to his assistant, grasping Yuuri’s hands in his own as he stared into those brown eyes, his expression almost desperate. “Yuuri, do you still believe you aren’t special? Do you really think that you would have gotten this job if Chris, Yakov, and I hadn’t thought you were capable of exceeding our expectations?”

“I...” He didn’t know what to think, he wanted to deny everything and insist that he was just Yuuri, a boy who hadn’t been wanted and wouldn’t amount to anything. However Victor, a celebrity who’d won countless awards including best actor five years in a row, seemed to think otherwise. “I don’t deserve to be special.”

“Why? Because you’re an orphan? Because you weren’t born with a silver spoon in your mouth and a free pass to the easy life? I didn’t become famous overnight and I sure as hell worked hard to get here, but even when I wanted to give up I didn’t because I had a goal and I wanted to achieve it.” He’d never heard Victor talk like that, his voice was harsh and his words stung like a slap to the face.

“I’m giving you a chance to start over, but it’s you who has to make the next step and figure out where you want to go from here. Ten years from now when you look back at your life what do you want to have done? Are you really content with merely existing, or do you want to live? I’m not saying it will be easy, and I’m not saying there won’t be bad times, but at least you’ll be working towards something you know will be worth every hardship.”

Yuuri wished that he actually had a dream, maybe when he’d been younger he’d had one but for as long as he could remember the only goal he’d had was to not make trouble for the people who’d taken him in. If the world was an ocean he longed to not make waves, it was okay if nobody noticed when he did something well because then people would know when he messed up too.

“What can I do? I’ve lived like this for so long I don’t know how to change.”

Victor rewound the show to the two of them talking and paused the recording. “What were you feeling then? You look comfortable in your own skin, even happy.”

“I was happy, I guess.” Yuuri looked down at his fingers, picking at a stray thread on his shirt sleeve. “It felt good to be recognized for something, even if it was a thing I didn’t realize would be useful.”

“What were you feeling when you turned off the lights at that talk show?”

“I wanted to help you even if it meant I’d get in trouble.”

“How about at your birthday party?”

“I didn’t know people cared enough about me to do something like that.”

A brief smile. “Yuuri, you’ve been seeing the world in black and white up until now; unaware that you’re missing out on how colorful the world can be. That doesn’t mean everything up until now means nothing, but you didn’t notice so much of what’s going on around you; I’m going to bring color into your gray world so you can appreciate the little things life has to offer.”

-  
The cast and crew of Missed Connections left for Russia the next day, and Victor insisted on sitting with Chris, Mila, Georgi, and Yuuri on the plane so they could all talk. Neither the actor nor his assistant had mentioned their conversation from the previous night at all, not when they were getting ready and being driven to the airport, not when they were checking our luggage and boarding the private jet. Yuuri didn’t want to think about it, because despite what had been said he knew Victor was wrong about him; whatever the man thought he saw just wasn’t there, but there was no point in arguing with him.

The interior of the plane was different from what he’d expected, instead of rows of cramped seats it looked more like a small apartment; the main area was furnished like a living room with several large white couches as well as armchairs for people who wanted to sit alone. Low coffee table sat in front of the couches and a mini fridge had been nestled in one corner, stocked with both alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks for anyone to enjoy on the eleven-hour flight to St. Petersburg.

Yuuri sat by himself in an armchair next to one of the small windows so he could watch the world grow small as they gained altitude, he’d never been on a plane before and his stomach had tied itself in knots. He lurched in his seat as the plane began to move, the scenery blurring past as the engines roared, and then he was suddenly floating. The buildings shrank to the size of postage stamps and then pin heads within seconds as they gained altitude, a river was no wider than a stick of gum and before he knew it the plane was above the clouds. Now the view looked like it belonged to another world, or at least a place made up entirely of piles of snow; nothing but white as far as the eye could see, the sun bright since there was nothing for it to hide behind.

His eyes burned and he drew the shade so he didn’t have to deal with the light, turning to see if the others had been watching him; sure enough Victor’s eyes met Yuuri’s and he felt his cheeks redden with embarrassment.

“I never tire of the takeoff and landing, no matter how many times I’ve flown I always realize just how big the world is, how I’m a small part of it. It really puts things into perspective.” His expression was wistful as he put his feet up on the coffee table.

“It looks so different from up here,” Yuuri replied as they crossed a gap in the clouds, the landscape below showing what he could only guess was farmlands. “I can see the shadows the clouds make on the ground.”

“It almost looks like a model, as if someone made it for a museum.”

“If you two are done being poetic I was going to suggest we play a game to pass the time.”

With a shake of his head Yuuri pulled out a book from the messenger bag he’d brought as a carry-on. “You guys go ahead, I’m going to try and study some.”

Victor looked at his assistant in surprise. “Study? What are you studying?”

Yuuri turned the book so the others could see it, “Russian for beginners” in bold letters on the cover. “I figured I should try and learn at least a few words and phrases before we get there.”

“Interesting, tell me if you have any questions and I’ll do my best to answer them.”

“Studying can wait!” Mila piped up, her red curls bouncing as she leaned forward on the couch. “I saw the episode you and Yuuri were in!”

“Oh yeah, I forgot that aired already.” Chris lifted an eyebrow at the actor and his assistant. “How was it?”

“Yuuri was amazing! I would have never guessed he was an understudy from the way he acted, although his hair and makeup team did a fantastic job on him.” The woman winked.

“You two really know what you’re doing.” Yuuri smiled politely at her, but it was hard to focus on the present while the contents of the call he’d made yesterday was still fresh in his head. Against his better judgement he had taken Victor’s advice, his fingers shaking as he dialed the phone number for the group home. He half-wanted nobody to answer so it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t talk to anyone, but after only a few rings he heard a familiar voice.

“Thank you for calling the Katsuki House, this is Mari speaking.” Mari was technically older than he was but she’d come to the home after Yuuri and had chosen to work there after turning eighteen. He’d wanted to do the same but he’d known it would only make things harder on everyone if there was another mouth to feed. Every one of his senses told him to hang up but he swallowed all the fear and anxiety swirling in his stomach and spoke.

“M-Mari?” He didn’t have the chance to say anything else before he was interrupted.

“Yuuri! Is that really you Yuuri?” She sounded... happy maybe? It was so hard for him to figure out how people were feeling in phone calls, part of the reason he hated making them.

“Yes... It’s, uh... It’s Yuuri.” He didn’t know what to say, he should have written something down first so he could just read off that.

“You do realized it’s been over two years since we’ve heard from you, right? We’ve been worried something happened to you!” Something had happened to him, in fact several things had happened to him, none of which made much sense.

“Sorry, I didn’t have a way to call until now.” It wasn’t entirely true, while payphones had nearly faded from existence there were still a few left in Sterling, but Yuuri had never been willing to use one. He’d seen too many episodes of the detective shows that Mari liked to watch where the protagonists found a body in a phone booth, enough to scare him away from using them.

“What have you been doing? We saw that the company you worked for closed, did you get a new job?”

At that moment Victor poked his head in the room and yelled to his assistant, loud enough for Mari to hear. “Yuuuri, are you packed for tomorrow? Do you need to get anything?” He noticed the man was on the phone and his eyes widened. “Ah, sorry, I’ll leave you alone.”

After he’d left Yuuri noticed that neither she nor he had spoken for almost a minute. “Sorry about that, I have a business trip and-”

“Yuuri.” Mari’s voice was unnaturally calm. “Was that Victor Nikiforov I just heard?”

“What? No, no it was...” He sighed. “It’s a long story.”

“Are you working for Victor Nikiforov? Can you get me his autograph? I saw he was on the latest episode of Nightmare Inspectors and he looked so cool as the ringmaster!” She’d actually watched it? He felt embarrassed at the thought of her seeing him on TV.

“Oh... You saw that? I was there for the filming.”

“You were? Did you meet that other Yuri? I think his name’s Yuri Plisetsky, but he looks just like one of the singers from that boy band I made you listen to when we were younger.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t like that we have the same name.” Yuuri felt his shoulders loosen up, Mari wasn’t insisting he tell her what happened or anything that might make him uncomfortable. It felt nice to talk with her, he hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed her and the others back at the home.

“I can believe that, but did you meet that knife-thrower guy too? He reminded me of you...” She trailed off and even though she was hours away he swore he could see the gears in her head moving. “Yuuri you didn’t!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Was that you? Did you get scouted by Victor or something?” Yuuri heard a voice in the background, someone calling to Mari. “I have to go but you better tell me everything. Don’t be a stranger, okay? I still consider you my little brother even if we’re not actually related.”

“I love you Mari, I’ll call again soon.” The call ended and Yuuri felt his throat constrict, the burn of tears behind his eyes as he resisted the urge to cry. Despite everything that happened, two years of not contacting anyone and hoping they’d forget he existed at all... He still had a family, and while he couldn’t really call it his home since he hadn’t lived there in years, he had a place to return to.

In addition to the group home he had Victor, a celebrity who wanted to help him despite the fact he already had in many ways. Yuuri still didn’t know just what had made the man do such a thing but he was grateful for it, he was thankful that they’d met that day. His stomach felt strange, sort of tight but also as though something was wriggling inside it, a thing that had happening the past week whenever he’d thought of the actor.

He still had no idea what Victor’s motives were, or if he even had any besides doing a good deed just because he wanted to; but the black-haired man wanted to stay by him for as long as he’d allow. Yuuri enjoyed cooking meals for the actor, even if he never wanted to eat them, he liked the conversations they’d shared and walking Makkachin together, but some part of him wanted more than the professional relationship they had. Yuuri wanted to be his friend and have his trust, but that meant trusting him as well. Was it truly possible for such a thing to happen?

Bringing his thoughts back away so he could return to reality Yuuri looked at the people in front of he, they’d once been strangers and now? For the first time in years he held hope, hope that his life would continue to get better and that he’d figure out just what he wanted to do now that he had the chance to find out such a thing. So much had changed in such a short period of time, and he wondered how things would continue to change in the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part one ends here. There are four parts to this story and this one, being the introduction to everyone and the plot itself, is the longest. Part two will be the start of that third thing that I mentioned as well as Yuuri (and technically Victor but this story isn't from his point of view) realizing just what he's feeling and coping with that. Part three will be when people hate me. Part four will be making up for Part three.
> 
> This chapter was a lot more.... tender than I was expecting. People always write Victor as a super extra person, and he is, but I feel that he's just passionate about things, and that includes helping others. He's probably already started to fall for Yuuri at this point but he doesn't realize it, he's never had feelings like that before.
> 
> I'll remind people that if they haven't watched [Moon-Viewing Recital](https://youtu.be/B_g1qAmofAc) you probably should because the chapter titles correspond to what's going to happen, somewhat. 
> 
> I stole the title for the supernatural knockoff from a manga, because despite the fact that it's awesome and was released in English nobody has heard of it. Nightmare Inspector is fun, I half wanted to write a fic based on it but I won't. Instead I'll write something dumb, like a crossover of Breath of the Wild and Yuri on Ice, Victor would TOTALLY say "Have I mentioned how amazing you are and how thankful I am?"
> 
> Thanks for reading, if you wanna chat with my lonely self you can go to my [Tumblr](https://midnightcrowisabadname.tumblr.com/) and tell me not to write that fanfiction. Comments, likes, bookmarks are always unexpected but appreciated.


	11. Lets go on together. Together we'll destroy all those lonesome feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two begins. A year has passed since the last chapter.

As weeks turned into months and Yuuri continued to stay by Victor’s side he discovered it was the littlest things the actor did that would make his chest tighten for some unknown reason. The smiles he’d give when seeing one of his favorite meals, an occasional brush of his fingers on Yuuri’s if he handed the man something, seeing him bleary-eyed when he’d first wake up and had a thin layer of stubble on his chin. The actor had finally started to open up to his assistant and Yuuri might have called them friends if it hadn’t seemed like an impossible thing, a part of his mind insisting that they were too different for friendship to happen.

The two men had settled into some sort of a routine as the year went by; snow falling and melting, flowers blooming only to shrivel up as the air turned cold after summer had ended. Yuuri would wake up at seven in the morning and walk Makkachin before taking a shower and starting breakfast, Victor would join them around eight and they’d discuss his schedule. Missed Connections had been released in theaters at the end of April to much praise, people had been immersed in the story and there had been enough money made that rumors of a sequel emerged. Since then the actor had voiced a character in an animated show about figure skating, appeared in several commercials for hair products, and even done some modeling jobs before he’d begun work on Until My Last Breath. The plot was about a girl who fell in love with a grim reaper, and even though it made him uncomfortable to be continually cast as the male lead in romances like that he accepted the job anyway.

His co-star was none other than Sara Crispino, Yuuri had heard her name in passing multiple times and she’d been at his birthday party but they’d never actually spoken until script readings started. Mila knew her though, apparently the two girls were dating in secret so both paparazzi and Sara’s brother, Michele, didn’t find out. People were aware that he had a sister complex and nobody wanted to see just how much of those rumors about it were true.

When Victor’s work was done for the day they’d go back to the apartment and Yuuri would make whatever he was in the mood to eat for dinner; he’d learned quickly that it was easier to adjust a dish he already liked than keep trying to give him new things. Things the actor was always willing to eat included tacos, beef stew, curry, fettuccini alfredo, and most breakfast foods; therefore several evenings had been spent learning how to sneak vegetables and other nutritious things into each meal. It hadn’t been easy, but eventually he stopped fighting his assistant about eating even if he wasn’t hungry and they compromised that two meals a day was the minimum he had to consume in order to stay healthy.

After dinner Yuuri did the dishes and looked over the schedule for the next day, planning what he’d cook and if he needed to pick anything up early in the morning in addition to checking if the actor had anything he needed to do that evening. Chris and Yuri had been right, Victor was handsome and smart but he was also very scatterbrained; often forgetting his script or losing his phone in the apartment. Thanks to this the assistant had come to rely on his messenger bag to hold whatever it was might come in handy when dealing with such an airheaded man.

Still, Yuuri couldn’t deny that he was happy with the way his life was now. He talked with Mari and the Katsukis at least once a month, they found his job working for Victor much   
more interesting than it actually was, and he’d even managed to contact Yuuko after three years. She and Takeshi had gotten married, they’d wanted to invite their old friend but didn’t have his address, in addition to having triplets that would turn two in a few months. Despite the feelings he’d once had for Yuuko he was thrilled to hear she was doing well, she deserved a family that loved her as much as she loved them.

The only thing he found hard to deal with was how his cheeks would redden and his stomach would do backflips whenever Victor gave Yuuri a compliment or smiled at him. He didn’t want to put a name to whatever it was he felt for the actor, he didn’t want to complicate their almost-friendship with unnecessary emotions that caused him to become clumsy if he focused too hard on them. Things were fine the way they were. Weren’t they?

_-_

When Yuuri opened the window in early December it was to the sight of fat, white snowflakes drifting lazily to the ground underneath a gray sky; his breath fogged up my glasses as he took Makkachin on her walk, the two of thems bundled up against the cold. She looked adorable in her red sweater and boots, her nose sniffing the air as she tried to eat the snow only to have the flakes melt on her pink tongue. Men with cameras waited outside the hotel like always but if they knew who Yuuri was they didn’t recognize him with his hair covered by a hat and a scarf obscuring half his face. While the poodle was indeed recognizable as the dog of Victor Nikiforov the black-haired man doubted a story about her would sell.

The apartment was blissfully warm as he took off my coat and unhooked the leash from the dog’s collar, receiving a lick to hus frozen hand in return before she padded off to her master’s bed. A part of Yuuri hoped she’d try to lick him too, her cold tongue would definitely wake him up and he wanted to see Victor flustered; airheaded he might be but he’d never actually seen the man lose his cool once. Sure enough a yelp echoed through the hall as he began rifling through the fridge’s contents and he couldn’t help but snicker. The laugh caused him to cough, his throat had been bothering him for a few days now and he needed to take medicine so he wouldn’t get anyone else sick.

“Makka no!” Yuuri heard the actor yell as the chilly dog did whatever she wanted, most likely pressing her body up against him for warmth. The assistant needed to see this, so he shut the refrigerator door and approached the actor’s bedroom cautiously enough so he might not notice anyone lurking if he was still distracted.

Despite being the only person to sleep in his room, well besides Makkachin, Victor still had a king-size bed that he liked to sprawl out on for some reason; this man was twenty five years old and yet he acted like a child. The poodle had her front paws on her master’s bare chest and it was clear that she had no idea it bothered him, especially since as Yuuri watched from the doorway she lowered her furry head and licked him on the cheek. “Makka! Down girl, you’re freezing!”

Yuuri laughed again and both dog and owner turned in the assistant’s direction. “Makkachin come here, I’ll give you breakfast. Stop bothering Victor.” At the offer of food the poodle leapt off the bed and rubbed her side against his leg eagerly, as if she was trying to push him into the kitchen. “I didn’t realize I’d left your door open, sorry about that. Go back to sleep.” He wasn’t sure if the actor would get mad at him for the rude awakening but he just shivered and got out of bed.

“I’m already awake, might as well get up and face the day.” He pulled the curtains aside on one of the large windows in his room and stuck his tongue out at the view outside. “Blech.”

“Why don’t you like snow again?” Yuuri asked, holding on to Makkachin’s collar so she’d stay put.

“I like looking at snow in pictures, but I hate it when the world just turns white. It’s like all the color and life has been sucked from everything and it irritates me.” He frowned and Yuuri noticed the man’s blue eyes had a faraway look in them now, as though he were remembering something sad. The assistant still knew nothing of Victor’s past beyond what was available online and the things he’d heard from Chris and Yakov, he knew the man hadn’t had a happy childhood but beyond that was a mystery.

“Are you okay?” The words had left his lips before he realized just what he was saying, and yet he didn’t regret it. Yuuri needed to know just what had made him into the man he was today, what had made him decide to help a homeless stranger a year ago. Now, however, probably wasn’t the time for discussing that, especially since Victor still only wore a pair of pajama pants despite how cold it was outside, and the assistant shook his head. “I’ll go make breakfast.”

A part of him knew Victor wouldn’t be hungry for a different reason than usual, so he put together a bowl of yogurt and berries topped with granola before heating up a pan of milk on the stove. Back at the group home, whenever someone was having a bad day, he would make hot chocolate from scratch; no mix or syrup, just milk, chocolate, and marshmallows of course. He didn’t know if the actor would want it though, he seemed distant and Yuuri wasn’t sure what he could do to support his employer.

Chris. Would he be able to help? Yuuri pulled his phone from my pocket and called the manager once he was sure Victor was in the shower. He had half an hour to talk without being overheard, more or less. Part of him was scared Chris wouldn’t answer but the man picked up on the second ring, his voice cheerful for early in the morning. “Bonjour Yuuri, I never pegged you as the type to do wake-up calls.”

“Victor’s acting weird.”

“How did I know this would be about him? You didn’t even bother to greet me or ask how I was doing.”

“Hi Chris, how are you today? Victor’s acting weird and I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m a bit hurt that the only time you call me is because I’m Victor’s manager but otherwise I’m fine. How are you today Yuuri?”

“I call you because he considers you his best friend and you’ve know him far longer than I have. Please help me, I’m worried about him because I never know what he’s thinking and he doesn’t tell me anything for some reason.” Yuuri needed to cough but he held back, the last thing he needed was Chris knowing that he’d neglected his health.

A sigh from the other end. “What is he doing that’s worrying you?”

“He was talking about why he hates the snow, he mentioned something about how when everything is white makes him irritated because all the color is gone.”

There was a moment of silence before Chris responded. “From what the old man told me, well, before Yakov took Victor in he lived in an apartment and wasn’t allowed to go outside. Apparently because nothing ever changed he started seeing the world as gray and the day he finally left was when color entered his life. I’d guess that when snow covers everything it reminds him of that apartment, of how his life used to be; and taking that into consideration it would probably be best to distract him rather than make him talk about it.”

Yuuri wasn’t entirely sure how he’d distract Victor from something so huge as snow, but he could try. “Thank you Chris, I really appreciate you telling me this. I’m sorry for bothering you.”

“I’m happy you care about him, he needs more people who do.” With that the call ended and Yuuri was left staring out the window at the snow beyond it, could he really fix this? It wasn’t like paper, you couldn’t just color over it?

Or could he?

-

“Get your coat on, I want to show you something.” Victor had just walked into the living room when he was addressed; those blue eyes still had that distant look in them and Yuuri couldn’t help but hate it. He didn’t say anything but bundled up nonetheless, pulling on his coat and gloves while his assistant picked up the bag he’d spent the last half hour putting together. Makkachin would have to stay behind, as much as she might be able to comfort her master they both needed their hands free for what they had planned.

The two men rode the elevator to the ground floor in silence, averting their gazes from each other as Yuuri’s heart thudded against his ribs and he struggled to keep his face blank. Could this actually help him or would it just make things worse? The courtyard was blanketed in snow, it covered the wooden benches and fell from trees in clumps in the slightest breeze, someone had shoveled off the sidewalks and Yuuri made his way towards the far corner. Over there it was somewhat hidden from the hotel windows and other prying eyes as well as being covered by the branches of a nearby weeping willow.

“What are we doing here?” Victor’s voice sounded almost hollow, as if were far away instead of standing next to his assistant.

“Something stupid most likely.” Yuuri dropped the canvas bag to the ground and pulled out several spray bottles, each one containing water he’d added food coloring to. When he squeezed the bottle a fine mist of blue landed upon the white snow and he kept spraying until he’d made what he hoped looked something like a smiling face. he risked a glance back at Victor, hoping for some kind of reaction and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as he saw the light return to the actor’s eyes. “Try it.” The bottle of red water was placed in his hands.

He took a tentative squirt with the bottle, a red splotch landing next to Yuuri’s doodle before he started drawing, coloring over the blank canvas of snow. His assistant joined in, making cartoon flowers and squiggles while watching Victor out of the corner of his eye; the actor was a much better artist than Yuuri was, he made a little Makkachin before starting on what might have been himself. Only a few colors had been made up but it was better than nothing, especially to see Victor’s face scrunched in concentration as he aimed the bottle, adding another person to his picture.

“Is that me?” He’d tried overlapping colors to make a sort of brown for the hair, and the figure definitely wore glasses but Yuuri was confused as to why Victor would paint his assistant?

“Yeah, it seemed appropriate. Selfie time!” Victor pulled his phone out and drew Yuuri to his side, one arm wrapped around the assistant’s shoulders as he positioned them in the frame while trying to keep the drawing he’d made visible behind them. Yuuri’s cheeks reddened at the feeling of the actor’s body pressed up against his back, he’d never been this close to Victor before and he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. A part of Yuuri’s brain was screaming for him to pull him closer, to hug him tight or... No, thoughts like that would make things even more awkward between them and he wondered just why he’d even considered it.

_Maybe you like him?_ The voice that had been lingering in the back of Yuuri’s mind finally spoke as he was released, the picture having been taken. He didn’t remember packing the spray bottles back up or returning to the apartment but somehow he managed it without acting suspicious. His thoughts were racing now, and he began to cough loudly, his throat burning. Just what did he feel towards Victor?

It didn’t matter, there was work to do and he busied himself by thinking about today’s schedule; Victor had to be at UA studios for a press conference about Until My Last Breath for one in the afternoon. After the conference ended there was to be a photoshoot for posters and other advertisements for the movie, so they could be made up even before filming began, although it was possible costumes could change before then. Yuuri needed to talk with Mila and Georgi again to see if he needed to make any alterations to the actor’s diet and exercise plan, he’d needed to lose weight to play the underfed Oliver, and then give Chris needed to be updated on how everything was going. 

Being in love with his boss, it just wasn’t right. Yuuri just needed to continue being a good assistant and hope things would return to normal.

-

The flashes of cameras was almost blinding even from Yuuri’s position behind the stage the actors had gathered on, they were seated behind a long table on tall stools where they were clearly visible to everyone. There had to be at least twenty different groups of reporters and cameramen gathered in the small auditorium used for press events, not to mention what looked like journalists for blogs or other small news organizations. Victor sat next to Sara in the center of the stage, one of his long legs crossed over the other as he stared into the hoard of people from behind his designer sunglasses, a small smile playing on his lips.

Yuuri tried to remember the names of the other actors, an Asian boy with thick eyebrows and a bored expression sat on Sara’s other side while a man with sandy blonde hair and a goatee was next to Victor. The assistant needed to take notes or something because his ability to place names to faces was absolutely dreadful. The crowd fell silent as the director came onstage to introduce the actors, the press conference had started.

“Question for Victor, how do you feel about playing a grim reaper?” A woman with short black hair held a microphone forward.

Unsurprisingly the question was met with a professional grin that Yuuri had gotten used to seeing. “I’ve never had the opportunity to play one before so I’m excited to see what I can do. It’s a different role for me, I’m not usually cast as the dark and brooding character.”

“Miss Crispino, you mentioned before that you were a fan of the book this movie is based on; will you try to make your character faithful to the original Elizabeth?” A man wearing a baseball hat asked from further back in the crowd.

“I’ll do my best to portray her as accurately as I can, but on the other hand I intend to find my own Elizabeth that only I can play.” Sara’s smile was polite as she responded.

“Victor and Sara, how do you feel about working with each other in a romantic setting?” One reporter asked as he tried pushing closer to the stage.

The brunette pressed a finger to her lips thoughtfully. “To be honest I was a bit nervous at first because Victor’s so talented but I look forward to working with him. As for the story being a romance, that was a different hurdle but it helps that both of us are somewhat uncomfortable with acting out straight relationships.”

Silence met the response and Yuuri saw the silver-haired actor’s face drain of color, while the actor had come to terms with being gay he hadn’t intended for it to be revealed in such a matter. There was no taking back the words that had been spoken though, once the journalists recovered from their shock they all began speaking over one another. They were desperate to be the first one to report about not only Sara being interested in girls, something that was already known, but Victor’s apparent disinterest in them. The director tried to get everyone to calm down but nobody bothered to listen until the silver-haired actor rose to his feet.

It was easy to see that Victor was uncomfortable with the attention he was getting and why he was getting it but he had to talk, the sooner he said it the sooner it would become old news. “I hadn’t meant to come out in such a way but now that there’s no avoiding it...” He took a deep breath and looked like he was preparing for battle. “Yes, I am gay. I’ve been questioning my sexuality for several years now and I’ve finally found the answer I was looking for. It probably comes as a shock to you all, but the truth is the truth and you deserve to know.”

Yuuri was forced to excuse himself just then, the urge to cough was overwhelming but he couldn’t bring himself to do so where everyone could hear him. The hallway outside the auditorium was deserted but he made his way to the bathroom anyway, for some strange reason he felt as though he needed to be alone. Once the door had been closed his lungs couldn’t hold back any longer and he coughed, throat burning from each one until he sincerely thought he might be sick from the force of it all. Eventually the fit died down and he was left gasping over the sink, staring at his reflection before a spot of color caught his eye and he looked down.

There, standing out from the white marble of the sink, was a single yellow flower petal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, that third thing I had in mind when I was creating this story? That thing besides Victor being an actor and Yuuri being homeless? It was hanahaki. Go ahead and hate me now but I think it's interesting that it's a fictional disease and only really found in fanfiction, yet it's still a tag on here and people seem to like it. I wanted to see what I could do with it so...
> 
> If you check back to chapter seven I did hint at it... It was in that news report about "lovesickness." I figured other countries might not call it hanahaki so I have a nickname other people might use, although more about it will be discussed in the next chapter.
> 
> Change of topic, snow. Victor does hate snow in this fic because of the reason Chris said, it reminds him of that gray apartment and how hard things were for him back then. Solution? Snow paaaaint, good job Yuuri, make some nice memories.
> 
> I always have a lot to say about this story while I'm writing it but when it comes to this I blank out. Meh.
> 
>  
> 
> If you have questions or just wanna talk to me go to my [Tumblr](https://midnightcrowisabadname.tumblr.com/) where you can see all the Yuri on Ice swag I got yesterday. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, comments, bookmarks, and kudos are always appreciated.


	12. I don’t even know what’s going on. You still seem close to tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter today instead of tomorrow because I'm doing something dumb tomorrow and I don't want to forget to post stuff. Yes, it is Yuri on Ice themed and I'll probably post a pic to my tumblr when it's over.
> 
> I'm not super pleased with it but if I let it keep sitting on my computer until I like it this story won't ever continue.

Hanahaki: [Hɑ/nɑ/hɑ/ki] Noun

An illness caused by unrequited love which causes a flower to grow in the patient’s body which is often fatal. The disease has three stages: germination, growth, and death.

During germination the flower first starts to grow and takes root in the lungs of the patient, this can last several years as each case of Hanahaki differs depending on the type of love. Most patients do not show any symptoms of the disease until the end of this stage.

Growth is the stage upon most patients are diagnosed with Hanahaki. The flower has taken root in the patient and has begun spreading from the lungs to the stomach, often absorbing nutrients from its host. Symptoms include sore throat, coughing up flower petals or whole flowers, nausea, and trouble breathing.

The final stage of Hanahaki is death, where the flower can no longer survive in its host due to lack of nutrients or space to grow. Most patients experience coughing up blood due to roots becoming detached from the walls of the lungs as the flower shrivels up. This stage is often fatal if the disease isn’t cured, although cases have occurred where the patient still passes away despite being cured due to the amount of damage caused to the body.

The flower can be removed with surgery although the patient will lose all memories of the person they loved in addition to leaving some scars where the plant grew. The flower will die if the patient has their love returned or no longer loves the person causing Hanahaki, a circumstance which works better than surgery and allows the patient to keep their memories.

Yuuri closed the tab he’d been looking at with a sigh and shut off his phone, the same information as every other website he’d visited so far, before glancing down at the petal for the thousandth time. Maybe it had gotten stuck to his clothes? Before he could even finish the thought another bout of coughing struck and he looked into his cupped hands afterwards to see three more petals, a light yellow color at the base and darker at the ruffled end. There went that theory.

Did this mean he really was in love with Victor? So far Yuuri hadn’t read about a case that had been caused by anything other than unrequited feelings, but was it possible that admiration could be confused for attraction? If he was actually in love with the actor... Could he ever return his assistant’s feelings or would Yuuri be forced to get the surgery and forget all about Victor?

Another cough and more petals joined the others as he felt his heart constrict sadly. Victor could never love him, the media wouldn’t allow it, and neither would Yakov or his fans. Even if by some small miracle he did return those affections Yuuri wouldn’t let the actor’s life be ruined because of him. Victor could never know just what he was doing to his assistant, Yuuri would never let the man find out. He threw the yellow petals into a trash can before washing his hands and returning to the chaos that had once been a press conference.

The cast of Until My Last Breath was being herded offstage as camera bulbs went off and reporters shouted questions in vain hopes that someone would answer them. Yuuri made his way behind the stage, flashing his id at the security guard so the man would let him through the mob of people to where the actors had gathered.

“Where were you?” Victor’s eyes were full of worry as he grabbed Yuuri by the shoulders. “I checked over at where you were standing once everything went crazy but you weren’t there! I thought a journalist might have dragged you off to be interrogated or something.”

“I just had to go to the bathroom, I’m fine.” He didn’t want Victor to worry about Him. He didn’t want Victor to care about him anymore because the more the actor cared the worse things might be in the end.

“Are you sure? You look a bit pale,” Victor tried to touch his assistant’s forehead as though he thought Yuuri had a fever but he stepped out of reach.

“I’m always pale, it’s just my skin tone,” Yuuri shrugged nonchalantly and hoped the actor would drop it.

“Paler than usual I mean.”

He smiled sadly, Victor couldn’t know anything. “I’m fine, I promise.”

-

“Mr. Katsuki your case of Hanahaki is one of the strangest I’ve ever seen, you say you’ve only known this person for a year?” The doctor’s office was cold in appearance and temperature, white walls and flooring in addition to stainless steel appliances. Yuuri had decided to have his condition looked at in hopes that there was something that could be done about it.

“Yes, I’d never met him before then.” He coughed again and several petals drifted slowly to the floor.

“Most people don’t start showing symptoms of the disease until several years have passed, although there have been a few documented cases where the plant develops faster than normal.” The old man looked at Yuuri from over wire-rimmed glasses. “Mr. Katsuki, is whoever you love someone famous?”

The doctor must have seen the shock on Yuuri’s face because he began shaking his head sadly. “That would be the reason then, if you had prior attraction to this person before meeting them then the disease might have started years ago and only became noticeable now. It is a rare occurrence because not many people have the opportunity to interact with someone they once had, what was it called? Oh yes, a celebrity crush.”

“Is surgery my only option?” He had to know despite his inability to make eye contact with the old man.

“Is it so unlikely that your feelings will be returned? Who is this person anyway?”

“It’s Victor Nikiforov, I’m his assistant.” Yuuri’s words came out barely audible, it was the first time he’d actually admitted to himself or anyone else that he was in love with his boss.

“He is quite popular, but I have heard the rumors just like everyone else. The best thing for you to do is to just tell him how you feel, he may surprise you.”

“I can’t, I can’t do that to him. He’s done so much for me already without asking for anything in return and I can’t burden him with this too. What are the other options?”

“Well, there is medication that can help slow the development of the disease but since every case of Hanahaki is different it’s hard to say how it will work. There is the possibility of falling out of love, although it’s rare it will kill the plant inside you without much damage to your body. You already know about the surgery, how we can forcibly remove the flowers but your memories of Victor will fade, but beyond those options there’s only death. Some people who’ve had the surgery were able to get their memories back but it was only a handful of cases and nobody knows what caused it.”

“My options are to stop loving him, to forget him entirely, or to die?” For some reason the fact that what he had was fatal wasn’t important, Yuuri could die because of how much he loved someone and yet he felt no fear. The movie being filmed right now was a bitter irony, he was in love with Victor who was playing a reaper and it would probably kill him.

-

“What did the doctor say?” Victor poked his head out of the bathroom and Yuuri felt his cheeks heat slightly, the man’s silver hair was dripping slightly and it was obvious he’d just come out of the shower. Was he actually trying to kill his assistant or was he just that oblivious to how handsome he was?

“It’s just a cold but if it lingers I have to go back,” the lie came out so easily it was surprising but he didn’t want to focus on it. “I got some medicine.” That part was true, Yuuri had been given a prescription that was meant to slow the progression of hanahaki in addition to strict instructions to return if his symptoms got any worse.

“Really? You were coughing for a bit so I was worried it was bronchitis or something.”

“That’s why I have to keep an eye on it,” the actor’s face had vanished from the hall but he’d left the door open a slight crack so his voice wasn’t overly muffled and Yuuri had to resist the urge to peek through it. What was it about realizing he was in love that made things different from how they’d been mere hours before? “What did Yakov say about today’s... incident?”

“He was more irritated that Sara didn’t think about what she said but he understood that it wasn’t my fault, I actually think he was a bit sad that I hadn’t told him, and that he had to find out with everyone else.” Yuuri could understand why Yakov felt that way, the man had practically raised Victor since he was a child, then again he wasn’t one to talk about keeping secrets from people.

“Um, I don’t mean to sound weird, but while you were out did you overhear anything? Like was anyone talking about the press conference?” Yuuri had been too focused on figuring out his feelings and what to do next during both of the subway rides that he hadn’t paid attention to the rest of the world at all.

“Sorry, I was listening to music,” he smiled sheepishly and mentally added a tally to the list of lies he was giving. “Phichit has been recommending I listen to the soundtrack from Dear Evan Hansen but I kept forgetting.”

“It’s alright,” The bathroom door opened and Victor walked out dressed in dark blue skinny jeans and a simple black t-shirt, a towel turban on his head making it hard to not laugh. “I’m glad you have a friend, he’s good for you.”

“Yeah, he’s something alright,” Yuuri coughed into his hand, catching the petals before they could hit the ground. “So what are you going to do now? Are you going to try dating now that the truth is out?” It physically pained him to say the words but it felt kind of like the kind of thing a friend might say.

The question was met with raised eyebrows. “I’m not that kind of person Yuuri, call me romantic but I don’t want to go into a relationship on a whim; it seems unfair if both people aren’t certain of what they want,” he leaned up against a wall. “I’ve only dated one person before and that was when I was just starting out as an actor, looking back on it I think I was pressured into it because everyone around me thought we were cute together. It lasted a few months before I realized that I was confusing friendly affection for romantic feelings, I was just drunk on the fact I was dating someone, it was nothing more than an act in itself.”

Yuuri had never heard this story before, not in articles or from other actors, and it almost felt like he was intruding on a private moment he wasn’t supposed to be seeing. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

Victor smiled sadly. “It’s okay, it’s not a sad memory and I’m relieved we were able to stay friends after we broke up; but maybe it’s just that I don’t really know what love feels like. I mean, I love Yakov and Lilia, I love Makkachin, but those are different loves than most people consider when they hear the word. I’m honestly surprised that I’ve been able to get this far in my career when I’m so inexperienced with love myself.”

Thinking back to The Lilac Fairy, the lonely boy who’d asked for nothing in return for the things he did, Yuuri wondered if that was the person Victor was when all the masks he wore were removed. Deep down was he just as confused about who he was and what he should do as everyone else was? Was there a chance Yuuri could help him? Was there a chance to gain his affections? 

No, Yuuri wouldn’t manipulate Victor’s emotions for his own gains, not after all he’d done.

Even if it meant dying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing the "dictionary entry" for hanahaki was kind of interesting because I don't think anyone's actually done a write up for it yet, so I had to make up stages for the disease and flesh it out. 
> 
> Also I'm torn between making Victor demiromantic or just not very familiar with love, like he doesn't understand his feelings for Yuuri right now which isn't good for Yuuri cuz flowers. I'm aroace so I shouldn't be writing love stories but I do anyway.
> 
> I did write some other stuff while this chapter was being a pain, I've got a steampunk/sky pirate AU story called Et Vapor Caelo, and a oneshot based off a tumblr post called Love on Ice if you want to check them out.
> 
> Go to my [Tumblr](https://midnightcrowisabadname.tumblr.com) for pictures of me cosplaying both Victor and Yuuri, one of which includes an Elsa dress.
> 
> Thanks for reading, comments, critiques, kudos are always unexpected and appreciated.


	13. Sighing all the time and closing your eyes, this is desperate!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Tries to kick down the door but only hurts herself* I did it?  
> I'll explain below.

If someone had told Victor Nikiforov that his whole life would change when he took a complete stranger he found living on the streets on as his assistant the actor would have scoffed at the idea. Now, even with the proof in front of him making breakfast it still seemed like Yuuri had come into his life out of the blue and changed everything.

He’d wanted to become an actor in order find himself, to discover who he was through the characters he played, but somewhere along the way he’d lost sight of his goal. As he started to gain popularity his fans demanded more and more from him, they’d taken an interest in the way he made the characters feel real to people and they wanted to see what he’d do next. Viewers wouldn’t be satisfied with the same level of talent as the last project, he was constantly pushing himself to improve, to surprise people, but there was only so much he could do.

The first time one of his movies bombed it hadn’t been due to his acting, the script had been poorly written and the director seemed unwilling to make any effort towards making sure everything was well done. Victor had done his best but it was a losing fight, the end result had been lackluster and the media enjoyed themselves writing articles about his poor performance. He’d cried when he’d seen a video calling him washed up and suggesting he should look into new careers, had actually considered changing professions before Chris and Yakov had talked him out of it. 

“You can do things nobody else can, if you don’t bring these characters to life who will? There’s nobody who can do as good a job as you will.” The words hadn’t resonated at first, he’d been too depressed to pay attention to what anyone said to him, but he decided to at least try again. Somehow a fake Victor Nikiforov had been created, a man who laughed off criticism and pretended that he was no longer the lonely child in that gray apartment. Fake Victor didn’t let anything bother him, fake Victor did exactly what was expected of him, fake Victor could do almost anything the real Victor couldn’t, but fake Victor was unable to connect with the characters as the real Victor had. 

“What should I do Makka?” The poodle never answered him no matter how many times he asked her the same question, but she was there for him where all those people who pretended to be his friends weren’t. It was somewhat sad to consider a dog to be the only girl in his life, but it was the truth. He didn’t understand love, didn’t understand how people could grow so close to each other that they would sacrifice their own happiness at times if it meant their lover was happy. The dream he’d once had of a happily ever after seemed impossible, an ending that could only be found in fairy tales, and it just about broke his heart.

When he’d realized that the black haired man in the filthy sweatshirt had been following him Victor had assumed that some wannabe reporter had found him despite his attempt at disguising himself. The last thing he’d expected was Yuuri, a man who seemed dedicated to bringing light and emotion back into his life, someone who was able to see through fake Victor’s mask to the man hiding beneath it. He hated to admit that he’d become attached to his assistant, his presence a comfort and a reminder that he wasn’t alone no matter what the world threw at him. When it felt like his best wasn’t good enough Yuuri was there to tell Victor that he’d done a good job. When he felt like quitting there was now a reason to hold on another day.

-

“Just what do you think you’re playing at?” Viktor was finished changing out of his costume and had been about to leave the room when he heard a voice from just outside the doorway. He was able to see part of the scene from where he was standing, Yuuri with his back pressed to the wall as a girl sneered at him. The actor recognized her immediately and scowled at the memory of their last encounter. How had the self-appointed president of Nikiforever, he wished the fan club didn’t exist, snuck into the studio?

“I’m not sure I understand what you’re asking.” Yuuri’s voice was calm, but Victor knew his assistant was anything but relaxed right now.

“Just who are you to Victor? What do you want from him?” The girl stuck one manicured finger in Yuuri’s face, her red curls shining from the amount of product she’d used.

“I’m his assistant, I don’t know what you think that means but unless these delusions of yours involve going over his lines or ensuring he gets to his appointments on time they’re probably wrong.”

“You’re glued to his side, he can go places without you but you keep him to yourself!” Victor really didn’t like this girl.

“Once again, I’m his assistant and it’s my job to keep an eye on him or he’ll wander off upon seeing a dog. Do you have anything of actual importance to ask me or should I just call security now?” Yuuri glanced back at the doorway and saw Victor standing there but didn’t say anything.

“Just don’t get any ideas! What he said at the press conference was just a publicity stunt and he’ll never be interested in you!”

Victor had finally heard enough, he stepped into the hallway and looked the annoying president up and down before frowning. “I think that even if I was interested in women you still wouldn’t be my type,” he sighed and took out his phone. “It takes a special kind of person to harass somebody they hardly know, and I don’t appreciate having my choices criticized by someone who claims to be my fan. Don’t come here again, not unless you want me to get a restraining order against you.”

The girl looked like she wanted to respond but decided against it, turning around as though she meant to leave but the actor had already called the studio’s head of security. “Yes, hello this is Victor Nikiforov. A fangirl broke in to see me and I thought I should tell you about it before she escapes.”

When he finally got off the phone Victor sighed and looked at his assistant tiredly. “Want to order pizza tonight? I need some comfort food.”

“Are you okay?” Yuuri’s hands gripped the strap of his messenger bag so tightly his knuckles had turned white and yet he was concerned for his boss.

“I should be asking you that, don’t you think? I’m not the one who was shoved against a wall by a rabid fangirl and shouted at.”

“I’ve dealt with worse situations, people like that are all the same so I try not to let it bother me.”

It hurt to think of what Yuuri must have gone through before he’d met Victor, his life had been full of misfortune and while a part of him believed he deserved whatever bad things happened to him he didn’t give up. It took a special kind of courage to be knocked down again and again and continue to get back up. “So, what are your intentions towards me?”

The assistant began sputtering, his face flushing crimson at the question. “What are you talking about?”

“She wanted to know, right? Do you want me to be your boss, or do you want me to be your friend?” He winked, greatly enjoying the look of embarrassment on Yuuri’s face. “If you wanted us to be lovers you can just tell me.”

Instead of responding the black-haired man began coughing, doubling over as he covered his mouth with both hands, his whole body shaking as he tried to expel whatever he’d choked on. After a minute the spasms stopped and he was able to catch his breath, searching for something in his bag but apparently not finding it. “Please don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Victor wasn’t sure they were on the same page.

“Don’t make fun of me like that. I want you to be Victor, not Victor Nikiforov the celebrity, and not any of the other masks you wear, just Victor. Do you understand that?”

It felt strange, after so many years of being asked to be someone other than himself Yuuri was asking for the exact opposite thing. He’d grown used to losing himself in character after character in the faint hope that some aspect of their personality would rub off on him, but after one year with his assistant Victor finally felt like he no longer had to pretend. This man didn’t care that he was insecure or that he still loved fairy tales, he didn’t care that the actor was gay when the rest of the world had reacted in such a different way.  
Maybe, just maybe, they’d been able to help each other in more ways than they realized.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's amazing how dealing with a family member dying makes writing a story like this hard to do. That and other stress made writing impossible for months but I'm finally getting back into a routine.
> 
> Also, changing things from first to third person takes a while, mostly because it sucked.
> 
> I'm exhausted and I have to wake up at 4:30 tomorrow morning. Hahahahaa Nikiforever is the name of his fan club...  
> night
> 
> Edit since I'm now somewhat functioning: I also went to Katsucon, that's a thing that happened, and I made a Yuuri gown for it. If you saw me at Katsu.... hi?  
> [](https://www.flickr.com/gp/139656447@N07/uDH88X)


	14. If You Don't Give It Your All, Your Memories Will Vanish Into Yesterday

Phichit looked at his friend from across the table, gray eyes narrowed as they took in Yuuri’s haggard appearance in the yellow glow of the electric bulbs. They’d met for lunch in a cheap burger place and rather than touching his food the singer seemed more interested in examining the purple smudges under the assistant’s brown eyes and the wrinkles creasing his clothing.

“What’s bothering you?” Yuuri winced, he’d only known Phichit for a year and yet the man was able to read him like a book.

“I’m recovering from being sick.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either, he was still sick and there was no sign that he was actually getting any better. Each day he coughed more and more, the flower petals multiplying in his cupped palms with each wheeze, his lungs felt constricted as though he wasn’t able to ever catch his breath. The other day he’d spat up a whole carnation, the yellow petals stuck together with saliva before he’d thrown everything into the garbage disposal. Victor couldn’t find out. He wasn’t allowed to know just what was wrong with his assistant because after working for the actor a whole year and a half Yuuri knew that nothing good would come from it.

“You said that last time, and you look actually worse than the last time we met. What did you even have?” Phichit frowned as he picked up a fry and rolled it between his fingers instead of eating it. 

“Bronchitis. It scratched my throat up pretty bad so I-” He broke off suddenly, coughing into his hand until the fit passed and he was able to breathe again. He looked up at his friend, whose face had gone pale, his mouth open in an expression of horror. He’d seen the petals. He knew Yuuri had hanahaki. 

“Yuuri, you-”

“You can't tell anyone.” Phichit had to understand that nobody could know.

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“I didn’t want anyone to find out.”

“But why? Why wouldn't you trust me with something so important? How long has this been going on?” Phichit’s gray eyes were wide and terrified, his food completely forgotten as he tried to process just what was wrong with Yuuri.

“Six months or so. It’s worse than it looks.” He put the petals into an inner pocket of his messenger bag, hidden from sight as though it would change his situation. “You can’t let anyone find out.”

“It’s Victor isn’t it,” sometimes it was unnerving how Phichit could read him like a book. “You have to tell him.”

“No, it doesn’t have anything to do with him.”

Phichit glared at Yuuri, his mouth a stern line and his brows furrowed. “It has everything to do with him! He’s your boss, he’s the reason you’re sick, and if you don’t do anything about it he’ll be the reason you d-die.” His breath hitched on the last word. “I don’t want to watch my friend die if there’s a way to help him.”

Shaking his head Yuuri wished there was some other choice available to him. “Victor has already done so much for me, I’m not ruining his life by-” 

“Ruining his life? Yuuri have you seen the way he looks at you? How do you know he’ll reject you?”

“Because he’s told me okay?” He took in a shuddery breath as his hands clenched into fists beneath the table. “He said he doesn’t think he can love anyone because he’s afraid of what the media will say. The world will never accept it, accept us as a thing because I’m not good enough for him. They’re right, I don’t deserve him, and all I can do is wait to see if I stop loving him before-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, I refuse to let you die,” Phichit took in a shuddery breath before meeting Yuuri’s gaze. “You said this has been going on for six months?”

“Yeah, more or less.”

“I’ll give you six more months, half a year, to figure out what to do about this. If you still haven’t done anything by then I’m telling Victor whether you want me to or not.”

-

“Do you want to go to the premiere with me?” Victor looked up from his phone tiredly. He had to be referring to Until My Last Breath, his latest movie that was sure to make millions internationally. The premise of a grim reaper courting a human might appeal to the general public but to Yuuri it was a topic that he preferred not to think about. 

“Shouldn’t you invite someone more interesting? I’m sure the tabloids will read too deeply into our relationship if they see us together at such an event.” Despite how pointless it was to hope Victor would catch the underlying meaning in his words Yuuri couldn’t help it. _Please say something I can hold on to, something to make my decision easier._ He had a little over a month left to make up his mind on whether or not to tell Victor about his condition. One month before the disease would have ravaged his body beyond repair. 

“I’m asking you though, I’ve already gone to these kinds of things so many times that they’ve lost their appeal. Everyone who approaches me usually wants something from me and the most I can hope for is that your presence makes things more fun.” Oh. Victor was using him as a source of entertainment, a way to pass the time at a boring event. There was no reason to read too much into the invitation and Yuuri had already started to regret getting his hopes up.

“Let me guess, you’re not allowed to use your phone because it’s rude and you figure having me to talk to will prevent at least scare a few people off.”

“I also figured you’d never been to a premiere before and might like the opportunity. You’d get to meet some new people, have some nice food, and see a movie you watched being made.”

“I don’t have anything to wear.” It was the first thing that came to mind as a reason he couldn’t go and the moment it was out of his mouth Yuuri already realized how weak of an argument it was. 

“You do realize I already bought your entire wardrobe, right? One more outfit isn’t going to ruin me and you probably need a more formal suit anyway.” Yuuri could practically see the wheels in Victor’s head turning, they hadn’t gone shopping together since they’d first met and it was entirely possible that this would be an excuse to do some retail therapy. Victor might not have realized it but Yuuri guessed that he had some problems of his own he was refusing to work on, preferring to treat the symptom instead of the cause. 

_Hypocrite_ Yuuri had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Who was the one refusing to accept treatment for an illness that would kill him if he let it? “I don’t have a say in this do I?”

“In shopping or going to the premiere?” Viktor raised his eyebrows slightly as he made his way over to the closet to get their coats. “Technically you can say no to going to the premiere with me but I’d really appreciate it if you came with me and gave me a reason not to talk to all the annoying people there.”

Rising slowly from the couch Yuuri did his best to hide another cough, it was somewhat nice that Victor didn’t notice small things. “You said there will be food?”

“If there isn’t I’ll take us out to eat afterwards, you can pick the place,” Makkachin bounded up to Victor and nuzzled his legs affectionately while he pulled on his coat. “I’m sorry Makka, I’ll walk you when we get back but most of the stores don’t allow dogs no matter how many times I ask.”

“I walked her an hour ago, I think she just wants to spend time with you. She loves her papa and gets sad when you’re not here.” Giving Makkachin a scratch on her chin Yuuri took his own coat from Victor and got ready to head out. He might not have needed his trusty messenger bag for a simple outing but he made sure to bring his medication with him anyway. The bottle felt heavy in his pocket, as though the weight of his illness and the lies he told people were concentrated inside it. One more month, he had only one more month where he could continue acting like nothing was wrong and simply enjoy Victor’s presence.

The shop fronts were decorated for Halloween, pumpkins and leaves helping to advertise warm sweaters and coats. The smells of cooking meat and spiced nuts drifting down the street from the carts on every corner. It was cold enough for Victor’s disguise of a hat, a scarf, and glasses to not look suspicious and it was clear he was enjoying not getting hassled by strangers as he dragged Yuuri into different stores and making him try on various outfits.

They both were fitted for formal suits, not quite as fancy as a tuxedo might be but still far nicer than anything Yuuri had owned in his life. He’d lost some weight thanks to his illness but he was still nowhere near as thin as he’d been in the days before he’d met Victor, the tailor tsked as she took his measurements anyway. “It will cost extra for a rush job, is that fine with you sir?”

Victor waived one hand airily, as though money wasn’t a concern. “I expected as much, do what you must.”

“You don’t have to tailor it if you don’t have the time,” Yuuri tried to object but he stopped after seeing Victor’s expression. “I don’t need it to fit me perfectly.”

“A well-tailored suit makes the man, and it’s only fair since I asked you to come with me even though the premiere is so soon.” Victor could go outside wearing nothing and he would still look like a greek statue, it didn’t matter what he wore because he was just so inhumanly good looking. Yuuri, on the other hand, knew that no clothes would hide the fact he looked like garbage. Hanahaki had eaten away at him bit by bit and the strain it was putting on his body was clearly visible, although most people just assumed it was stress or “bronchitis.”

It didn’t matter what he thought though, there was no point in arguing with Victor on these matters, not when it came to clothes or money or how Yuuri needed to have more confidence in himself. He’d learned to keep his mouth shut on such matters, especially nowadays when every breath pained him. He let Victor pay for their suits as well as the dozen other outfits he didn’t actually need. 

A part of Yuuri was happy, it was nice to spend time with Victor without worrying about schedules or fans. He wished he could call it a date but that would be impossible, no matter how wonderful it might have been if that were true. If he confessed would they continue to have these moments together? Would Victor be disgusted by his feelings and want nothing to do with him? Could they continue being somewhat friends if he was rejected? Would he be able to stop loving Victor?

He knew there was no chance of reciprocation, no chance that Victor might feel the same way as Yuuri. An actor who made nearly every costar fall in love with him? Who had enough money to spend on expensive clothing for his employee? Victor could do so much better, and he probably would someday. So why couldn’t Yuuri just tell him so they could both move on with their lives?

“Did you hear what I said?” How long had Victor been talking to him? He’d been so absorbed in his miserable thoughts to notice anything.

“No, sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind. What were you saying?”

Instead of repeating himself Victor’s eyebrows knit together and his expression shifted into one of concern. “Is everything alright? Do you need to talk about some of it?”

“No, it’s fine,” Yuuri hoped he sounded convincing. “I was just thinking about how I needed to call Mari soon, and stuff like that.”

Victor didn’t look convinced, his frown deepened. “You know you can always talk to me if something’s bothering you, right? That’s what friends do, they help each other.”

Friends. Yuuri hadn’t expected the word to hurt as much as it did. Just friends. “I can’t trouble you with such trivial stuff, you’ve got more important things to deal with than my problems.”

“You’re important to me too, can’t you see that?” They’d stopped walking and were blocking a part of the sidewalk. “You always insist on doing everything yourself and never accept any help from others and it’s not healthy. I can’t just sit back and watch you work yourself to death because you think you’re not worth my time. Please, rely on me more. I want to help you”

_You’re the problem Victor, you’re the reason I’m dying._ Yuuri almost said it there, almost spoke the words he’d been holding back for close to a year. He couldn’t say it though, not here, not on a crowded street with so many people watching. He couldn’t risk someone recognizing Victor, and so he held his tongue once more. “I’ll try.”

There was silence for most of the time spend walking back to the apartment, an awkward silence that neither of them wanted to break. Yuuri hadn’t considered Victor might think of them as friends, might want to help him more than he already had. He was so focused on himself that he’d neglected to realize what he was doing to others by not letting anyone help him. 

_You’re not even giving Victor a choice, you’re just making all the decisions for him. What if you confess and he feels the same way? What if you die and he feels responsible because he didn’t notice you were sick? Just tell him._ Yuuri’s conscience was more relentless than ever. Still he kept silent. His fear outweighed his guilt.

Makkachin greeted them excitedly when they opened the door, not even bothering to give them time to put their bags down. It was as though they’d been gone for weeks instead of just a few hours. “She’s really gotten attached to you, huh?” Victor smiled warmly.

“I am the one who takes care of her, maybe she likes me because I give her food.” Taking off his coat Yuuri had to avoid being knocked over by Makkachin’s rapidly wagging tail.

“That could be part of it, but I’m guessing that’s not the only reason. Makka is an excellent judge of character,” The poodle started sniffing their bags in interest. “Sorry girl, there’s nothing in there for you.”

“Is that why Yuri doesn’t like her?”

“She can tell he’s a cat person, she’s so smart!” Victor knelt down and began scratching Makkachin behind her ears, causing her tail to become a blur. “Isn’t that right Makka? You’re such a smart girl!”

It was at moments like these that Victor didn’t look like a famous actor, or even a heartthrob. He just looked like a man who doted on his dog too much. This was the Victor that so few people saw, the Victor without masks and armor. This was the Victor that Yuuri liked best.

He felt a coughing fit starting in his chest and excused himself to the bathroom, needing privacy in case he coughed up another whole flower again. It came on strong, the sink filling with petals after each ragged chest spasm, the urge to vomit rising inside Yuuri and the effort needed to hold back. Every time he thought it was over another bought of hacking started, tears blurring his vision as he continued to expel what seemed like enough petals for a bouquet. A whole carnation blossom thudded against the sink as he panted to regain his breath.

“Yuuri, are you ok?” There was no way that Victor hadn’t heard him, not with how bad the fit had been. 

Blinking back the tears Yuuri gasped for enough air to respond. “I’ll be fine Victor, the doctor says these will happen as a side effect to the medicine.” He hated these lies but they were necessary.

“When’s your next appointment?” He hated how concerned Victor sounded, how he was the reason for it.

“Tomorrow,” He choked the word out. “I’m going to take a shower, can you feed Makkachin for me?”

“Sure, no problem.” The sound of retreating footsteps could be heard over his ragged breaths as Yuuri’s vision cleared enough for him to see the mess in the sink. The petals at the bottom were the same yellow as they’d always been, but the fresher ones, the petals on the whole flower, were tinted orange. A coppery tang filled his mouth as realization set in.

He was almost out of time.


End file.
